


The Pitch Manor

by lost_in_starlight



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Baz makes simon hot, F/F, F/M, How Do I Tag, It gets kinda hot, Kissing, M/M, Secrets, its kinda cliche, the pitch manor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-02-16 18:59:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18697354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_in_starlight/pseuds/lost_in_starlight
Summary: Simon ends up at the Pitch manor and meets BazThere may be errors, this was composed mostly during the dead of night. I apologize in advance





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Set in a universe in which magic exists, but not Watford.

     The rattling of the train tracks jolts me awake with a startled gasp. I momentarily had forgotten where and who I was. I sit upright and wipe the back of my hand on my mouth, to clean off any excess result of sleep. I look to my left and see a man with a beard that I can swear moves and a lock of hair that keeps fluttering with each breath. I breathe a sigh of relief and lean back on my chair, looking out the window.

     I try not to think of what just happened. What has been happening? And what is yet to happen. I don’t want to think about _him._ I don’t want to think about what he just did. I just don’t want to think.

      The train stops at yet another station, but this one happens to be mine. I fidget against the head of the seat in front of me, not wanting to rub the man in the wrong way, and get my small duffle bag from the compartment overhead. My wand threatens to fall out that I quickly tuck back in. Another thing I don’t want to think about.

      The station is crowded with people rustling again each other to get to places. I shuffle past them to get to the front of the building. I guess I need a taxi or something of that sort. I reach inside my pockets to take out the crumpled up paper that has an address messily scribbled on it. That’s where I’m supposed to be.

      I spot a taxi and it’s driver who is waving for me to come, and I almost do. But then I remember something else that I need to do first. I go back inside the station and to the bathrooms. I make sure that no one is lurking around inside a stall before going in one my self and taking out the wand. I pull out some pieces of paper from a notebook that has chemistry notes scrawled on the pages. I won’t be needing those anymore.

     I take the paper and point my wand to it and whisper a quick “ **You are worth more,** ” and the paper spins into money in front of my eyes. I tuck the notes in my pocket and blow the smoke from the top of my wand before stuffing it back in my bag and leaving the bathroom to get back to that driver. I should make me feel guilty that I’m making money out of nothing, and it would’ve at one point, but I can’t bring myself to feel much of anything right now. 

      I call for the driver and get in the seat beside him while showing him the address, he huffs a breath of exasperation as he starts the car and moves us to the road. I guess the manor is quite a bit further away from the main city. But I didn’t expect a mansion in the middle of town either.

       The sky is dark outside, and the streets are bustling with activity. The lights illuminate the shadows in the corners engaged in heavily intimate activities, and a couple of people walking, or more like stumbling, on the sidewalk and they come to a door, burning it open and strutting in. There are two people huddled together as one giggle and the other swings an arm around her shoulder. They do that all the way to the end of the block and then disappear from view. There is a man kneeling next to a plant pot hurling in fluctuating gasps and another caressing his make. There is a girl slipping off her heels and handing them to her friend, and a boy with a briefcase speed walking to an apartment. A man losing up his tie as he ruffles his hair. Everyone here belongs. It sends a pierce through me.

      An hour and forty-five minutes later, the car pulls up to a huge driveway that eventually leads to a porch. There is a small silver of activity happening at the back as the noise and laughter would suggest. I hand the driver the money and I barely get out my duffle as he speeds off and I’m left standing in front of this house - if you can even call it that - not knowing what to do next. I should’ve just gone to Agatha’s and waited for her to come back from her vacation. But a small part of me knows that she would not welcome me with open arms either. I go up to the door that intimidates me as I ring the doorbell. The door is carved with delicate swirls, and I’m sure that there is a hidden message in there somewhere, and if I wasn’t so nervous, I would look for it. But I shuffle on my feet and don’t have to wait long before someone swings it open. I extend my hand in greeting but am met with nothing.

        I look down and see a girl. She looks back up at me with big grey eyes and her hair is in two neat plaits as she observes me. She has dark hair that isn’t quite black and a frock that reaches her knees.

      “I think the church is sending children again, mum !” She half shouts, and someone somewhere comes in delicate footsteps to stand beside her.

       “Oh sorry honey, we don’t want any cookies right now,” The women look genuinely looks sorry and folds her hands prettily together. They make the perfect picture. Mother and daughter. 

       “I’m - I’m not from the _church_ ,” I look at the little girl, “I - I’m here for a job.”

       I had heard father talking about how the Grimm mansion and how they just caught their housekeeper sneaking money and gold from them. And when they caught him, he had pulled out a gun and a wand and threatened them until they let him go. They did. But he was later caught and executed for exploiting of the Magiks rules and pulling a gun on one of the most powerful Magik families in the world. Apparently, it was a big scandal and was in the Magiks papers all over the world. Father had made fun of them over breakfast as mum looked plainly at him. But I knew that she was praying for them under her breath and cursing him. He deserves much worse.

       “Oh. Well, why don’t you come in honey, it’s pouring,” The mother gestures for a maid as she takes my jacket. I am going to have to do that now. I’m left in only a dripping shirt that is frayed at the corners, a result of last night. I hadn’t even realized it was raining.

      “Why don’t you go the foyer, Malcolm would want to … talk before he gives away the job,” The women mutters more, but I can’t hear her. The little girl runs off, and I hear her giggling to someone in the other room.

       The house has dark floors that make a _tik tok_ noise as her heels hit them. There are portraits of the family on the wall to my right, but I don’t get to have more of a glance. The walls are dark, too and I can smell cedar and a fire burning somewhere. There is a small chest on the side that has umbrellas leaning against it. I need to get familiar with all the crevices of this house.

     The woman leads me to a room that is to my left and has a mantle with a fire burning and some recliners lined up around it. There is a television on top of the fireplace that reflects the opposite walls. But that isn’t what my attention catches. It’s the powerful man sitting on the chair on one of the recliners, but it looks more of a thorn with him on it. He has a glass with some amber liquid almost all drowned out, and a suit that neglects to have any creases. The fire reflects in his eyes as the woman leads me to stand next to him, but a safe distance away. 

     “Mal, this boy wishes for a job. He thinks to be qualified and-”

     “What’s your name?” He cuts her off and without looking at him, addresses me. Shit, I hadn’t thought about what name I would give them. 

     “Oliver, Sir,” It’s the first thing that comes to mind.

     “And how do I know that I can trust you with my household, _Oliver_?” Mr. Grimm says. It’s more like he declares an answer and is already disappointed. 

      “I am trained to do work, and though I don’t have any credentials, Sir, I can assure you that I have no ulterior motives other than work,” I can’t let them know that I’m a magician too. It has been said that after the scandal, the Grimms only accept Normals to do their work, and then magik their drinks so that they forget all that they have seen. I need to keep a mental reminder to not drink anything without checking first. Almost impulsively I feel for my wand in my bag and feel the bump of it against my palm. I hold on to the feeling of security it exerts.

     “Oh, so you can _assure me_ and I must accept you now,” Malcolm exclaims and takes on long sip from his glass.

     “Sir I’m just a boy looking for work. I heard that you need a respectful worker, and I can do that.” 

     “And where have you heard such things?” I know that the scandal was on the Normal papers too, they just had a version that is not so heavily laced with magic as the real story was.

     “On the papers, Sir.”

      “Would you look at that Delphine, we are even on the Normal news,” He feigns shock. 

     “Mal, the boy seems to be of qualification. Plus, we do have other staff that can be trusted to report if he does anything out of the ordinary,” She gives me a side glance.

     “We have other staff. Why would we need more help?”

     “Maybe he can help Baz? You know that he has … preferences and won’t let anyone in his room. Maybe since they are of the same age, he will trust Oliver.”

     Malcolm looks straight ahead at his wife and then at me. He gives me a full head to toe examination that makes my palm sweat in nerves like he can see all that I’m hiding. 

     “I will see how much progress you will make in a month. Anything out of place, even a small rumor, a slight touch out of the ordinary and I will not hesitate to kick you out,” I breathe a sigh of relief, but then a new tension arises in me. How will I not look suspicious as I try to hide the burning power that flows in my veins, threatening to burst out?

      “Thank you, Sir,” I look at the ground under our feet that is covered in soft carpet and intricate designs. At the expensive shine of his shoes and the soft muddy tracks, mine have left. I straighten my spine and meet his eyes. 

     “You are dismissed,” He gives a single glance, and I move towards the door. 

     “Roy will help you find your rooms and get settled in. He will give you your jobs and show you around,” Daphne mutters to me before I slip out. 

     I lean against the wall adjacent to the door and rest my head against the warmth the wood exerts on my cold back. I didn’t even realize the small sliver of my spine as the cool fabric of my wet shirt sticks to my back. The shirt is soaked through, but I know that the staff has their own uniforms, which takes away the stress of finding clothes to wear. 

     “Now you’re going to have to clean that wall before you retire to bed,” A voice makes me jump and almost lose my footing. A figure leaning against the dark wall in front of me. He has his hands folded loosely and his ankles crossed as he leans. He is wearing a crisp button-down and his hair has not even one out of place. He smells of the cedar that this entire house smells of, and his own scent that is harder to pinpoint. His sleeves tug his arms and the low light of the hallway illuminated his jaw and strong gaze as he takes a once over of me. I’m not making the best first impression in this mansion

     “I- I’m sorry. I’ll get to that,” I look back down at my feet wondering how long he has been standing there. 

     “So you’re Daniel’s replacement?” He asks while tilting his head to the right looking at me like I would at maths homework. I guess Daniel was the scandalous worker. 

     “Yeah, I guess I am.”

     “You do know that everyone will be watching your every move closer because of that.”

     “I am aware,” I really hadn’t thought about that, “But at least I have a job.”

     “Why do you need one so bad anyway?”

     “That’s quite an obscure question. Why do people need a job? To get money, what else,” My tone slips and I don’t think about the words spilling out. It would be a miracle if I can keep myself in check for a month. 

     “Well, talking to the son of your boss like that isn’t the best way to keep it,” He pushes himself off the wall and comes to stand closer. The light bounces off his face making it look sharper, older. He is still looking down at me with that careless gaze that one would look at an insubstantial paper with.

      “I-I’m sorry,” I really need this job and my confidence evaporates just as fast as it came and I’m left shivering and wet in front of this teen model.

     “You better get better at this. I don’t accept lousiness,” His chin is held high and demanding. 

     “I will. I’ll try.”

     “You better hope that’s enough,” He regards me with a passing look before tilting his head slightly, “That’s Roy,” I look at where he’s pointing and there’s a man standing in a formal creaseless suit with his steady gaze on me. 

     “Thanks,” I look back at the floor as I make my way to him. I don’t want to upset anyone anymore. I don’t want to get kicked out. I don’t even have to say anything to Roy because he just juts his chin towards another door and goes back to his bodyguard like stance. I follow his direction and look around in awe at the details of the house. The way the rooms are shaped and the gentle arc of the doorway. Father never cared to invest much in appearances. Friends from school never came over, and I never invited them. 

      The room that he gestured me towards is the kitchen. It’s more like a living room with a stove and refrigerator. There are people hustling and chatting in hushed happy whispers as they look at me. Everyone is over the age of 30 which is horribly awkward. I don’t know what I am supposed to do if I’m just supposed to help them with the cleaning, or the making of the beds, the cookies, the coffee. I wander aimlessly and lean against a corner of the island in the middle. Five minutes pass with no one coming up to talk at say anything, and I hesitate to make first impressions, but I’m relieved of that duty when an arm grabs my bicep. 

      I look over my shoulder at a woman with dusty blond hair and hooded blue eyes. She has those kind eyes that reminds me of the way mum used to look at me. It lodges a choke in my throat. 

      “Honey, how about you deliver these to everyone?” She gestures to three mugs that have smoke fluttering out of them, and a thermos that is firmly closed. I wonder what rich people drink as a midnight drink. 

      “Yes. Yes. I can do that,” I slightly nod, grateful for having something to do. 

      “So that one is for Mordelia, the little girl,” She points to a purple mug, “And those two are for the Mr. and Mrs. but you don’t need to go inside their rooms to deliver them,” She leans slightly closer and in a lower voice, “They like their privacy. And that one,” She points to the thermos, “Is for Baz.”

     “Is - Are they all up stairs?”

     “Oh yes, I forget you are new. I swear I could find my way around here asleep. If you get lost, there are always people wandering the halls to guide you. Baz’s room is on the third floor, so it might be a bit more … eerie up there since there aren’t any guests at the moment.”

      “Thank you,” I smile genuinely at her, the first in a long time, and grab the tray with the drinks. 

      Walking up the stairs with a tray isn’t one of my specialties, and my foot threatens to slip at every step, but I make my way up and steady myself on the edge of the banister before adjusting my posture and looking for the rooms. 

       The upstairs isn’t much different to the downstairs. The walls are a dark burgundy, and its carpeted down the middle, with a little bit of the shiny floor pecking through at both the edges. The symmetry is captivating as well as the small portraits hanging on the walls and the questionable statues that are scattered about. 

      Finding Mordelia’s room isn’t very much of a challenge since she has her name painted in clean pop-up characters on her door, and a pink ribbon peaking out from under the crack in the door. I knock three times on the door, wait a respectable amount of time and then push it open. She is sitting on the fluffy carpet, which is a shocking enough difference from the rest of the house because of the bright color. But the image of her sitting on the floor with her big grey eyes triggers a fresh memory that almost results in me tripping on a doll limb.

      “Oh goody. The last person never bought my milk on time,” She huffs and I hand her the purple mug and she gives me a shy smile before I close the door. I let myself have a small smile as I walk down to the big double doors at the end of the hall, which I presume to lead to the grand suite and Mr. and Mrs. Grimm’s room. I remember the lady telling me not to go inside, and so I place both their mugs on the intricately designed cabinet next to their door. It is a dark brown shade and has two drawers that I’m half tempted to open. But another helper passes by and looks to have an internal battle whether they need to call someone, and I realize I’m still in the soaking wet shirt. I give a shitty excuse of a smile and make my way towards the top floor. 

The top floor has some small differences. Like the absence of the weird statues and the bright lights. It’s darker here, and the faces on the portraits purposefully look creepier. There are small doors on either side of me, but from the second floor, I realized that the main rooms have a bigger door with a gold handle. I find Baz’s room at the end of the hall and absentmindedly straighten myself before knocking three times and then going in.

       Baz is on his bed with his phone illuminating blue onto his face. His hair, now that I see it in light is the darkest out of them all, is in a messily done bun, and his pressed clothes have been traded in for a loosely done white shirt, that look way to victorian to be worn by a teenage boy, with the ties undone, creating a  V down his chest half way. He has some black trousers that hitch slightly at his ankles, showing pale white skin that looks like porcelain. He is sitting criss crossed and looks, for the briefest of seconds, surprised but then collects himself. 

       “And you’re still wearing that godawful shirt.”

      “I’m just here to deliver your drink,” I set it on the bed side next to him, and take in the room. The pillars of the bed that reach up to the ceiling and the dark wood of his chest of drawers. The slightly, but not much, lighter shade of the walls and the soft carpet on the floor. He looks at me expectantly. 

      “Do you know what’s in this,” He shakes the thermos. 

      “No, I don’t,” I didn’t dare to ask.

      “Crowley. Good luck, _Oliver_ ,” He laughs and it’s a vicious, vicious sound. 

 

*******

      When I get back to the kitchen, most of the staff has gone to their quarters, and only that women who helped me, a few others, and Roy are left doing the last fine print.

      “Honey, you're back,” She puts a hand on my shoulder and guides me down the hall, and we go down some stairs. 

     “How are you finding it?” She asks me as we quietly make our way down, careful not to disrupt the people in the beds. The room is quite large and everything is spread out very nicely. The beds are in neat rows and there are more than enough bathroom doors at the right side of the room. Most of the people in bed are quietly snoring, and the other few are talking in hushed voices. 

      “It’s … a lot.”

      “I can imagine,” She lets out a kind laugh, “I’m Ebeneza. People call be Ebb.”

      “I’m S- Oliver,” I let out a shaky laugh hoping she didn’t notice the slip up. 

      “Oliver. Welcome to the Grimm-Pitch mansion.” She leaves me in the quiet dark of the quarters to go to bed. 

*******


	2. Chapter 2

     The next morning everyone wakes up on schedule and I’m hurriedly trying to slip on the trousers and make them fit. Last night I found a bed with no one taking residence on it, so I claimed it as my own. The person beside me handed me a marker from under her bed and instructed me to write my name on the clean polished wood of the foot. And she also told me that there is a uniform for me under it.

      And now I’m trying to get the trousers to stay up, past my hips, but they slip and fall leaving me standing in the corner of this room in my pants. I look around, and because I’m almost 30 minutes late, no one is left in the room. I silently curse under my breath at what I’m going to do, and reach under my bed for my duffle and get my wand around. I stand silent for another second, watching and waiting to see if anyone is going to come. They don’t, and so I whisper a quick “ **It fits!** ” To the waist of my trousers and then stand up to hurriedly do my tie while also climbing the stairs up to the kitchen. Everyone bursts out in quick paces and hustling breaths to get somewhere. I look to see if I can find Ebb. I don’t, but someone hands me a platter and instructs me to take it to the living room for breakfast. 

      I silently take it and try to map the house in my sleep-dazed mind and find the room. The Grimms are sitting around it in a straight posture and business-like tones. Baz and Mordelia are sitting next to each other and she is sneaking the bacon off his plate while he pretends to be angry. Mr. Grimm at the head is reading a newspaper while his wife tries to feed three of the small infants before giving up and handing them to three helpers to do the work. She then happily arranges her napkin and digs into her own food. 

     I go around the table and lean forward slightly to put the small dishes of food, that makes my stomach roar in hunger, onto the table. Mordelia immediately picks up a chocolate chip cookie that I was eyeing and obscurely eats with her whole mouth open to mock Baz. I turn and walk out, happy that no one really noticed my presence. 

      I look down at my feet as I make my way to the kitchen. Ebb greets me with a smile and hands me a mixer to help her make the cookies for Mordelia's birthday party today. She tells me about how excited the little girl is for turning 7, and all the small things that she has hidden around the house for her to find. I listen to Ebb tell stories of their family as I make the cookies. I revel in the stories of this other family and their imperfectly perfect life. The way they are cold and harsh but still eat breakfast together and joke around. 

      I put the cookies in the oven, and Ebb instructs me to make the beds of everyone or else Roy is going to make me wash the bathrooms. I hurriedly pretend to be busy as I pass by him in the hallway towards Mordelia’s room. 

      Her bed isn’t too hard and I put her stuffed animals in a small cluster at the end while fluffing out the pillows. The Grimm’s room is much more difficult. The layers of sheets that I hadn’t even realized people had. We did have a good house, not as big as this, but bigger than most of my friends had. I think about how our house always smelt of smoke and burning magic. The layer of authority that father had played out that seemed to take physical form and suffocate me some nights. I shake my head and go to make Baz’s bed. 

      His curtains are down and since he’s downstairs, I roam a little more freely around his room, poking at the weird statues carved in his bedside. His bed is mostly untouched except for the left corner he was sitting on last night. I wonder about if he sleeps perfectly still like he does everything else when he barges in. I hit my head on one of the pillars on his bed. 

     “ _Fuck!_ ”

      “Language, Oliver,” He laughs, “There are children around,” Mordelia peaks out from behind his legs and makes a shushing gesture with her finger. 

      “Sorry,” I mutter, my cheeks lighting on fire as I make my way past them, but I stop right before him in the doorway, “Happy Birthday Mordelia,” And I leave them be. My hand brushes against Baz, and for a flicker of a second something like fire lights the back of my hand. I quicken my footsteps. 

      Ebb reminds me of the cookies in the oven and to check up on them. I poke at them and then get them off to cool down. I start mixing up the batter for the cake, as instructed by Ebb while peaking at the recipe book every now and again. I end up getting the flour and sugar on my shirt and trousers, which isn’t too bad since I am expected to be doing work. I lick the edges of the bowl as I put the batter in the oven and remember that I haven’t had anything in a very long while. My stomach grumbles in anger. 

     “Hey, when do we eat?” I ask the man next to me who has been helping me make the treats for the party. 

      “After the party,” He laughs at my exasperated look, “There are some leftovers in the fridge from last night. Just don’t let Roy see you. He is a super hard ass about _work this and works that_.”

      “Thank you,” I release an exhausted sigh and wash off my hands to grab a plate of pie from the counter that someone has left for us to eat. I let out a miniature sigh of utter happiness as the delighted smell of it hits my nose. 

      I try to look like I’m meant to be walking around with a plate overflowing with pie and go to the back doors. I haven’t had time to explore this part of the house. The glass doors open to a large plain of land that has a swimming pool on the left, and a grass patch on the right side. The middle ground consists of an umbrella shadowed tanning seat and small chairs scattered in neat order everywhere. The grass plain has a huge bouncy castle on it with ribbons and banners for the party later. I go to the left side, where there isn’t as much happening and am shadowed by a huge tree at the corner, a safe distance away from the swimming pool. I bring the pie to my lips and involuntarily let out a moan of content. 

     “Now that is definitely not appropriate for children,” I flush in embarrassment and sit up straighter and subconsciously brush off some of the remains of baking hours in the kitchen from my trousers. 

     “I’m sorry. You - You always end up catching me in moments where I’m not thinking.”

     “You need to stop apologizing. I might actually forgive you,” He is standing, towering over me and the sun is highlighting his dark hair and light eyes. I look over his shoulders because meeting his eyes suddenly seems harder than usual.

     “Do you - Oh do you need anything?” I hurriedly get up and put my spoon and pie down. 

     “Actually I do. I need you to iron my shirt for tonight and bring me another thermos as soon as you can. Tell Teresa to add the extra bit in it this time or I will come for her,” I can’t tell if he’s joking or not, but I nod fanatically and go back inside. I guess the air will have to wait. 

     “You left your-”

     “It’s okay. You can have it,” I say over my shoulder and climb up the few steps to get back inside the house to start doing the work. I can’t have them thinking I’m slacking. 

     I go to Roy to ask him who Teresa is and then tell her what Baz said. I am pretty sure he was talking in code because she shakes her head in disagreement and tells me to come to her in a few minutes so she can get ready what Baz wants. I go to his room to grab his shirt, and see Mordelia on his bed - that I had just made - playing with her dolls upside down. She watches me hustle and giggles something incoherent and I smile small at her before I leave. She seems to be the only one with emotion around here. 

     I press Baz’s shirt in the room conjoined with the kitchen, and a thought comes to me. I hadn’t had much time to take all of this in before, but now I’m wondering why all the helpers? If these people have so much magic and power, why do they need mere Normals doing their work? I never thought about the help in the houses that father used to take us to in hopes that they would make a name out of him. He taught me to disregard the help because that’s the lowest of the low. I feel a hot shot of anger drown me as I try carefully not to burn Baz’s redshirt. It’s not a color I see many people in, and I imagine him with his hair slick back and his shirt buttoned with the top two buttons open. It’s an image I’m inspired to paint, but I don’t have anything with me here.

     I hang the shirt carefully and put it in his room, with Mordelia still there, and then go to the kitchen to grab his drink. I wonder what it was he asked to be put in there. I know that magicians can get drunk, it just takes a little more than Normals. I think about Baz’s clear cut posture and wonder if that had been embedded into him, or if he was born with the elegance of royalty. 

     I find him still under the tree and hand him the thermos. He has his head leaning against the trunk and his earphones in. His leg is bobbing to the rhythm of the music, and I almost don’t want to disturb this small world he has made in the shadows of the trees. 

     “Here’s your … thing,” I hand him the bottle and go to leave. He doesn’t reach out to take it, so I bend down to place it at his side, his eyes follow my every move.

     “Why are you here? And don’t give me that bullshit _‘I need money’_ excuse because that shirt you were wearing when you came in was branded,” Why he even noticed that was beyond me. But more importantly, my hands shake as I fold them together to stop them from shaking and giving way my nerves. 

     “I really do need to make money. That’s not a lie or _bull shit_ excuse.”

     “Oh, then you’re one of those runaways who _‘Don’t like the responsibility that the title brings’_ or whatever shit you spew.”

      “Yes, then I guess I’m one of _those_. Can I leave now?” I don’t think about how he couldn’t be further from the truth, but how close he hit home. I want to go back home and breath in the sunlight scent of Agatha’s hair even though I knew nothing we did was real. I want to laugh with my friends, and then go to bathrooms to cool myself off before I start throwing out magic spells in Normal conversations. I look at the clean cut grass and the small flowers outlining the outskirts of the tree he’s leaning against. 

       “Well then, I guess I have you all figured out don’t I,” He crossed his arms and extends his long legs forward. I see that he’s wearing blue jeans and it suddenly strikes me. He’s just another rich bloke, and I guess I had never thought they would wear something so casual as jeans. I stare a moment too long and snap my attention back to him. Trying to ignore the way my stomach drops at the direction this conversation is taking, and the small thoughts about him adding fuel to the fire. 

    “I guess I’m that easy to read.”

     “Well, that’s horribly boring.”

     “What can I say? I’m not very complex. Can I leave now? I have duties that need to be done before the guests arrive,” I try for another excuse that I could use to get away from this situation and him. 

      “How about you indulge me in a more compelling excuse next time. Leave,” He puts back in his earbuds and I don’t hesitate before leaving him in the quiet bliss of his drink and music. 

*** 

**B A Z**

      I do wonder what is wrong with me a lot more often than most 18-year-olds.  It’s not that odd to enjoy lurking in the shadows, that can be excused for personal taste. It’s not _that_ odd to sleep in a bed covered in gargoyles. It might even be excusable for crushing on people who are obviously unavailable. It might be normal to live in the strict rules and discipline that I grew up in. It may even be normal to actually enjoy the company of the silence.   
****

It’s definitely not normal to like them, very easy on the eyes, helper who has been asked to replace the old one who one might have or have not engaged in some things beyond his pay grade. It’s definitely not normal to ask this new helper to bring you a thermos full of blood with shots mixed in because you are a vampire who needs to take the edge off.

      It’s inexcusable to watch this said help leave for the sake of checking out the way his trousers hug the soft curves of his ass and the way he nervously stumbles in the footsteps when he goes inside. I obviously make him nervous because of the presence of me and the, I can admit, creepy architecture of this house. He just wanted a job and he got one. He doesn’t need me making it worse. 

      But _Crowley_ if it wasn’t adorable to watch him swear or flush when he talked to me. It’s only been two days, we don’t want this turning into a Romeo and Juliet thing. 

      I get up from the comfort of my tree and take a swing from the thermos. Warmth spreads through me and as I go inside, I see him leaning against the kitchen top talking to Teresa and lightly laughing at something she says. I turn the volume higher on my phone and the music blasts in a sudden volume. I go deeper into the house, the back quarters where no one bothers to go anymore. Not even to clean. It used to hold the old relics of our family’s past, but after mum died, father moved all of them to the top floor study. Now the room only has an old couch and some dirt filled cabinets. And rats. It’s vile but I can hear their pulse when I’m hungrier. It’s become some sort of bizarre comfort to come here and know that my mother walked the same floors hanging up her achievements on the walls in this room. To know that there is still _some_ part of her that father hasn’t totally burned away. 

      I go there now and bury myself in the couch that sinks under my weight. There is a huge window in front of me but it’s covered with a huge white sheet. When I was younger, I used to hide on the other side of that sheet and watch the water, it was a pathetic excuse to want to disappear into the blue of the sky. And when it got really late, and the stars winked at me from the sky and I started to hear the footsteps eventually realizing that I was missing, I would go back to my room and feign shock when the helper would scream about my father’s worry. It was a blatant lie. Why would he worry? I have nowhere else to go. 

      I make sure the door is firmly closed, the lock broke when they moved mum’s things and knocked one of her mantle pieces on the handle, and light a fire in my hand. It’s the only light in this dim room, it’s not like I need it anyway. But the warmth of it against my palm and the easy reassurance makes me crave wanting to light this entire goddamn mansion on fire and watch it burn. Daddy dearest wouldn’t like that. 

      Time passes by, and I hear the hurried voices of the staff getting ready to greet the guests for Mordelia. She has been talking about her birthday 3 months prior. Apparently having a vampire brother doesn’t lessen the excitement of getting old. I eventually straighten out the shirt that makes me want to rip it off because of the clean-cut stitching and the hard bend of the trousers. 

     The house smells of cake and is flooded with staff and some people who have decided to be punctual and come early like it makes a difference. I go up to the third floor to my room, only to find Oliver bent over the drawers and Mordelia picking his pockets for something. Now if only I could walk into this view every time I come in my room. 

      “I-I told you. I don’t have it!”

      “No! I know you have it! What is that pocking out your pocket them?” She points to something that looks like a green fabric that's falling out of his back trousers. 

      “That- That’s not your ribbon.”

      “No, it is! My ribbon was green and it was that shiny material.”

     “I’m sure if you ask someone, they’ll help you find it.”

     “Yeah, I’m asking you.”

     “No. I me- Not m-”

     “Mordelia, I’m sure you have another one of those ribbons in your closet, I saw it last week,” I had to interfere before Oliver turned into goo from her accusing gaze. 

     “It’s none of your business. I’m sure you’re covering for him because he likes my ribbons,” She points an accusing finger at me and I purse my lips in an attempt to conceal my amusement. 

     “Right. Oliver here obsoletely _loves_ your ribbons and he asked me to keep it a secret,” I put an arm around him as if we’re best of friends. I feel him stiffen and the heat that blends into the skin on my arm moves through my whole body. I wonder if I’m just imagining the weird static energy he’s giving off but he moves away before I can question it any further. 

     “I- I did not do such a thing!” He looks at me flushed from frustration. I can see this isn’t the first person to bother him today. 

     “He’s just shy,” I whisper to her in a voice feigning secrecy and she looks at him giggling and running down the hall. She just wanted to prove a point instead of actually get back her ribbon. 

      “Why would you do that? She might tell your mum or dad, and I really need this job,” He looks at me huffing and turning back to the laundry that he was sorting out. It gives me a great view that I can’t really complain about. 

      “I can assure you she has already forgotten about it,” I flop down on the bed and it bounces under my weight. I see him catch a quick glance at my posture. I realize that I’m creasing my shirt and this is probably the most carelessness anyone about the age of 10 has shown in this house in front of him. I revel in the idea of catching his attention. 

       “It’s nice to know I am that easily forgotten,” He goes inside the bathroom to hang some towels and reappears a moment later. 

      “Well, I don’t know what to tell you. She is just that sort of person,” I put my hands behind my head and watch him flutter around my room, “Why are you in my room anyway? Don’t you have things to do downstairs?”

      “Your mother assigned me to you specifically. And,” His voice goes a little quiet and had a tinge of embarrassment laced through it, “They kicked me out of the kitchen after I ate one too many cookies,” I look at him for a second and then throw my head back, laughing. 

      “Didn’t you _make_ them?”

      “I did. Which is why I thought no one would notice a few gone,” He says exasperated and runs his hands through his hair. My breath hitches. 

      “Were they at least worth it?”

      “Oh, they were,” He leans his head back slightly shaking his head and then straightens himself and stands the best he can in front of my bed.

      “Do you need anything else?”

      “No. Not right now.”

       “Oh okay,” He turns to leave, “And Roy told me to tell you to get ready because apparently, Jordan is coming and … yeah, that’s all he said,” His eyebrows furrow slightly and my skin grows colder.

       “You can leave now,” It comes out a little harsher than intended but he looks startled only momentarily before looking back at the ground and leaving. 

      Jordan. Mordelia’s friend’s brother who was an … experiment that got clingy too fast. He threatened to tell everyone that the eldest kid of the Grimms has preferences. But fortunately for me, everyone already knew. His bait was about as ineffective as a torch in the blinding sun and he doesn’t hesitate to throw razor rays at me across rooms every time we meet. Last year at the New Year’s party, he filled my wine with some sick thing that was supposed to have a repulsive digestive effect but it ended up going to some old senator guy who has not been invited to our house since. He seems to lean towards using more magic for his pranks, but he knows that there will be witnesses and his family will no longer have the support of the Grimms concerning issues on the Magiks board. 

      He’s basically a revengeful ex who doesn’t hesitate to entertain, and I think about what he’s going to pull on the down low this time as I button up the shirt that Oliver had pressed and put on my bed. It is a deep red that I pair with another pair of black trousers and nod at my reflection before going downstairs. Everywhere there are little devils running around in frilly frocks and bow ties. It’s a miniature ballroom. I see Mordelia and Nancy on the bouncy castle and an 8-year-old who looks to be disapproving of the obscure way they jump around. Kids, man. 

      Mordelia sees Oliver, who is wearing a white dress shirt with black suspenders and black trousers. He even has the bow tie to pull it all together, and his curls have been pulled back a little. It’s the normal attire for dress wear amount the staff, it should not faze me. I shouldn’t be looking at the way his bicep flexes as Mordelia asks him to hand her an orange juice, or the way he bends down and gets her shoes for her to put on. I should be looking for powerful parents who might get a good word in for me when I grow old enough to take a hold on my father's shares. I need to stop looking at him. 

      Almost like he feels the heat of my gaze, he looks over at me and then turns to Mordelia to say something and gets up to come over to me. I grab a flute of champagne from a passing waiter to do something with my hands. It tastes like bubbles and I want to feed it to the plants immediately. 

      “Do you need anything?”

       “Would you stop asking me that. I will call you if I do,” I take a swing. I need some liquid courage. 

      “Well, you just - I thought - when you looked over. I just thought you were- nevermore,” He shakes his head. 

      “I would like a tall glass of wine, please and thank you,” A voice comes out from behind him. We both look at the owner, and he might be a bastard, but he cleans up well. 

      “Jordan.”

      “Basilton.”

      “Oh please, no need for the formalities. I’ve seen you in your true form.”

       “That was a beautiful weekend,” He winks at me and I see Oliver look down at his shoes and excuse himself, “Don’t forget my drink, sweetcheeks,” Jordan calls out after him. I see his pace pick up. 

       “Do you need to ruin an 8-year old’s birthday? Have you no shame?”

      “I have more than you Mr. Make out and Ditch.”

      “I am flattered that you think so highly of me.”

      “If only you had any feelings, Pitch,” He snarls and shoots me a look. He used my mother's name. No one calls any of us Pitch anymore because of my father’s compelling persuasion to erase her. 

      “It makes life easier if I don’t get bitch hurt by everything, Mayor.”

      “It makes it much more interesting to see you actually show emotion then.”

      “That won’t be happening in your lifetime.”

      “Enjoy your eternal like doomed and alone, _Pitch_ ,” He walks away, but not before grabbing the glass from Oliver as he passes. I turn around and lean against the counter with my glass crushing in my fists. 

      I make small talk with anyone who tries and about an hour into the party, with all the kids outside and everyone socializing, everyone is called to eat dinner. Mordelia sits at the head of the table and everyone places themselves in whatever chair they find. I end up at the corner with one of my father’s friends sitting on my right moving mercilessly as a cause of one too many drinks. 

      Everyone eats and the cake gets cut, songs are sung laughter raises in celebration. Everyone starts to loosen up and go outside. Daphne orders someone to put on some music, and everyone sways and dances around the garden. The swimming pool area has been sectioned off from the public and so everyone is spread across the grass with some fairy lights lighting the fence around the ground. I can bet my money that someone spelled the lights to glow brighter and the whole scene to be picture worthy. We can’t have a bad word said around our name. That would simply be unacceptable. 

      Mordelia and some of her friends dance around the middle and they pull in anyone that they can grab. She grabs for me but a steady glare makes her move on the next person. She even grabs Oliver and some of the other staff to join in. He awkwardly sways, but when she grabs his hands and starts moving them obscurely, he lets loose and they laugh as he spins her around, her frock swirling in the air. He lifts her off the ground and he shrieks in excitement. The light is lighting his hair on fire and his freckles are even more prominent, his bow tie is crooked and one strap of his suspender is falling halfway down his arm. But he laughs and flushes, and when everyone starts to leave, he fixes himself up and goes to greet everyone goodbye. Handing them their coats and bags and goodies for the kids. 

      I watch him clean up everything I the lawn, and when he moves inside, I go back upstairs and think about bronze hair and light freckles. 

***

**S I M O N**

      I am so tired, I take off the trousers, bow, and suspenders and unbutton the first few buttons of the shirt before collapsing into the bed. It’s so soft and comforting, I fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.   
****

It’s so out of anything I ever imagined for me to be working for a family as privileged as the Grimms. Father always said that I would climb my way to the top, and I did, just not exactly the way he imagined. He didn’t even let me know about my powers until my 17th birthday. And when I asked him about it, he said that he hadn’t known either until I flipped his desk when I got mad at him at 15. He said that my mother was a witch who had tricked him into marrying her, and when she came back home from work that day, he hit her across the face so hard, she had to take the next few days off work. It was only the first of many many more.

      I told him that I could just wring money out of paper and help out family, but he said that if the village found out about my curse, they would bury me alive with the ghosts of the people before me. He took away my wand and he kept me locked in the house most days. He said that if I tried to disobey him, he would hurt mum worse. He didn’t even bother with locks or any other security. He knew I would do anything to keep her safe. He always hit where it would leave a wound. 

      The day I left, the day after my 17th birthday, he had lost the only leverage he had. He came home mad at the world and he took her from me. I heard her scream and I grabbed the first thing I could find, the twig I had snapped from a tree earlier, and went to the living room where they were. He had her hair in his hands and he was spitting something at her. Words that even I couldn’t repeat. He said that he should have been more careful, should’ve found out more about the monster he was marrying. He said that they were going to get us and it would be her fault. He hit her hard in the stomach before I could her to him. I put everything I had in that initial push of magic through the stick and right to him. 

      It hit him right in the heart, but I was an amateur. I didn’t know the words, I didn’t know that I shouldn’t have let the anger guide the magic, instead, it should’ve been my intent that powered through. He did get hit down, but he didn’t die, he was paralyzed there while I helped mum up into the couch. She was bleeding from somewhere I couldn’t find. She took my hands and she looked at me with bloodshot eyes and told me that I wasn’t a monster. She told me to go. To run away. And even if they weren’t going to make it out of these wooden walls, I had to. 

      She pointed to her stomach and told me that she was pregnant, and we were both stars in her eyes. She told me to never looks at my magic as something that made me horrible. Then she closed her eyes and I felt the moment her pulse stopped beating under my hand. I sat with her until she came cold and her blood stopped flowing. I put her on the couch and my mind didn’t even comprehend father at that moment. I used the rest of what I had to clean away the blood and then I carried her to the front garden. The neighbors saw me, and they came to help. They helped me and after that, I can’t remember anything except the flashes of dirt. The tears of her friends. Father screaming and pointing at me. 

      When it was all over when the people had mourn and the sun had risen. When they started their independent days while I sat there with the memory of my mum and the life that she had. I remember my magic flowing over her grave. I remember wishing it to protect her, and I remember the bare shine of the swirls of golden as I walked back to the house, found father on the couch with an arm lazily dropped and not a care in the world. I hadn’t felt the hate that intense before. I remember wanting to burn him with this house and then running out before I could do anything else. 

      I remember thinking what it would’ve been like if we were a normal family if that child had been born. If my father wasn’t a sociopath. If I could’ve just been better. If I wasn’t the monster he made me out to be.

***


	3. Chapter 3

     The next weeks pass by with flashing smiles, sweating faces, and tired limbs when I crash into bed every night. Baz occasionally ordered me to do trivial tasks like getting him a drink or a new blanket. But other than that, we rarely cross paths. Making a synchronized dance of morning routines of me making the bed, him finishing breakfast, me leaving before he could catch me in his room. Truth be told, he is a frightening presence, and I can’t let him distract me. I know this isn’t permanent, I’ll have to leave as soon as I have something else arranged. I just need to find out what that something is.

     It’s almost towards the end of my third month here when one morning, I go to Baz’s room to make his bed without a care in the world. I had my headphones in and my music was blaring like it always is when I’m doing the house chores. I go to his drawers and organize them because I’ve learned that no matter how he looks from the outside, he is not as clean and proper as he plays off. There are drawers hanging open and a few shirts spilling out from an obvious hectic rage of trying to find the perfect one. I fold them and nod my head with the beat of the music, and then going to the bed and peeling off the covers.

     “ _FUCK_ Baz!” I jump back and drop the covers and rip the earphones out. My heart pounding out of my chest.

     “Good morning, sunshine,” He smirks and puts his arms behind his head, the muscles in his arms stretch with the movement. I look down at the floor and the haphazardly thrown shoes.

     “Why- you’re supposed to be downstairs by now,” I take another tentative step back, leaning on the dresser.

     “I didn’t know you handled my schedule too,” He raises an eyebrow. He’s still laying there with the covers off and an unbuttoned shirt with some pants. I suck in a deep breath.

     “I-I’ll just come by later,” I pick up the covers, setting them by his bed and wrapping my headphones around my phone and turning to the door.

     “I actually need you to call up some of my contacts and then press my best suit.”

     “Is today something?” I try to rack my brain for any important event happening today, but I come up with nothing.

     “No nothing important. Just my 18th birthday,” He swings his legs off the bed and looks over at me with a look that questions why I’m still here.

     “I-I - what? No one mentioned anything,” I fluster over the words and make a mental note of asking Ebb about this later.

     "That’s because no one bothers with trivial things like birthdays.”

     “But Mordelia had her-”

     “That’s because my father needed some more supporters and she has powerful 8-year-old friends,” He rolls his eyes. I can’t seem to think straight with him in his pants, and him turning 18.

     “Oh, I guess- I’m not a secretary,” It comes out harsher then I mean it too. Why do I have to do it? I’m supposed to be just a maid service.

     “No. But Daphne gave you to me. So you do what I say,” He makes his way across the room and stands in front of me with an intimidating glare.

     “She didn’t give me to you. I needed a job and she gave me one,” I fiddle with the earbuds and try my best to hold my ground. I can’t breathe.

     “Fine, what do you prefer? You’re my maid. Or perhaps,” He puts his hand on his chin, scratching it pretending to be in deep thought, “Servant. A runway perhaps? Or cleaner boy? Whichever you prefer?” His smirk is a horrible thing.

     “How about just human?”

     “We both know you’re not just human,” Before he can say anything else I turn and close the door behind me. I don’t have to over think what he said. Perhaps he was just making a slight comeback. It doesn’t have to mean anything. He couldn’t possibly know. There is no way he could. Not even Ebb knows, and she’s the closest person to me here.

     I decided to busy myself with the task of going through Baz’s huge book of contacts in his office and sending a message to everyone that has a small gold star next to them. They seem to be all people I’ve never heard of - not that I keep up with whose popular and whose not. It takes me a good hour and a half to finish that, and then I realize that I need to go back to Baz’s room in order to get his suit. I drag my feet up the stairs in reluctance, wanting nothing more than to lie down and not have to face him.

     The door is ajar and I cross my fingers, hoping that he isn’t sulking in his room for his birthday. He isn’t. The bed is ruffled and a few of the pillows are on the floor, but no sign of the vampire.

     I sigh in relief and go to his huge closet to try to guess his ‘best suit’ as he put it. It is a more complicated task than I would’ve thought since all of them look the same to me. I pick out a dark navy one that looks expensive enough and has small gold trimming. I decided I actually really like it and nod to myself before turning to leave.

     Only I bump into a hard, wet, chest and we both let out an ooff as our chests collided.

     I also decided that I’ve seen way too much of Baz Pitch today because he’s standing there in only a towel, his hair - for the first time since I’ve been here - is not perfectly done, and hands in chaos all around him. He has water dripping off the ends and onto his wide, pale chest that seems to only lead to one place. His towel hangs way to loosely on his hips, accentuating a very defined V. He smells even more of Baz this close, and that’s when I realize that I have my hand on his chest that landed itself there upon the impact. I gather myself as much I can and look up at him.

     “If you wanted to see me in my birthday suit, all you had to do was ask,” He smirked at me and my face lit on fire.

     “I- I just came here to get this,” I lift up the navy suit.

     “Nice choice,” He leans against the wall and he’s too casual, too comfortable, his towel too low. I find myself breathless again.

     “Thanks. Can I go now?”

     “I’m not keeping you here,” He looks at me with an eyebrow raised. And I brush past him as I leave, but he holds onto my arm.

     “I actually just want to put on a jumper. You can put that away,” He watches as I hang the suit back and shuffle out. The door makes a too loud sound as I close it.

***

**B A Z**

     I’m eighteen.

     Didn’t think I would make it think far, to be honest. I always thought someone was going to stake me before I got to adulthood. Though eighteen is barely an adult.

     I run a hand through my hair as I sit on the bed and wait for Oliver to come back with the news that some company is here. It’s never a good idea to sit alone when you’re overflowing with emotion. Never. Though it’s not like I can put a pause on my thoughts as they take over me.

     I think about how father didn’t even spare me a glance this morning when I arrived at breakfast. He just got up and left, but not before informing me that the next ‘get together’ requires my immediate appearance. No ‘Happy Birthday son’ or ‘Glad you came this far’, or ‘I’m proud of you’. Not that I need the confirmation, it would just be nice to know that he acknowledges me.

     I think about mum and how she always told me that I shouldn’t let him intimidate me too much. That I could always kick his ass if I ever needed to. She used to make me feel so sure about myself, it makes me nauseous to think that I was like that once. Believing that she would always be there to tell me those things.

     I start to think about the little monsters that share my blood but there is a knock on my door that straightens up my posture and my hands smooth my trousers like a reflex, but it’s only Oliver. I feel the shot of tingle up my arm looking at him and remembering the shoulder he bumped against mine and how it injected something into my veins making me hum everywhere.

     “I- You’re friends are here,” He only pokes his head through the door and is gone before I can say anything else.

     I climb down the stairs to the foyer where there is a small circle of people looking horribly out of place between the bodies of the helpers and the dark color of the walls.

     “You guys couldn’t be more out of place if you tried,” I stand with my arms lightly crossed before them.

     “It’s no one’s fault you live in a mansion with things happening 24/7,” Niall mutters with a slight edge to his words.

     “It’s not the amazing dream you think,” I mutter as Penelope comes up and hands me a very horribly packed piece of … something.

     “What’s this?” I look at her with a question blatantly plastered on my face.

     “It’s what you’re supposed to give people when it’s an occasion according to social rules,” She says with a competent look on her face.

     “I think that only applies if you can make it look … pleasing,” I hold out the parcel.

     “Fine don’t take the totally free present,” She smirks.

     “It would be rude to return it,” I shot back and look around for a certain bronze head.

     “Who’re you looking for?” Dev claps a hand on my shoulder behind me, “Happy Birthday, man.”

     “Thanks. Oliver.”

     “No. I’m Dev,” Penelope looks at him like he just dunked his head in a bucket full of scorpions.

     “No. I’m looking for Oliver,” I find him in the living room and try to get his attention but he’s talking to Teresa on the other side of the huge sofa.

     “Whose Oliver,” Bunce says from beside me.

     “Daniel’s replacement,” I mutter, anticipating the look I get from the group.

     “ _Daniel’s replacement._ Huh? You move on fast,” Niall says standing beside Dev.

     “When will you guys get it through your thick head that I didn’t sleep with him.”

     “When you give us real evidence that he did just steal and leave,” Bunce says with her arms crossed.

     “It’s not like I have fingerprints or whatever,” I roll my eyes, already having decided that it’s useless fighting with them on this. Even if it’s not true.

     “Can we leave now?” Dev says, “I’m hungry. And you said that there would be lunch.”

     “I didn’t say that. Oliver sent the messages.”

     “Well someone said there would be food,” Dev says.

     “I just need to-”

     “Oliver?” I look behind him, and he couldn’t look more awkward if he tried. Penelope gives her hand to him to shake, but his arms are full with an antique vase and a shirt draped over his shoulder.

     “H-Hi,” He looks to the ground as Bunce rests her hand back at her side and looks at him. I pray that the inevitable isn’t going to happen.

     “He’s … younger,” She says.

     “He’s a year younger than us,” I say and catch him throwing a glance towards me.

     “Do you wanna join us?” She asks him, not regarding the very obvious maid outfit or that he has small beads of sweat on his hairline from working.

     “I don’t t-think that would… appropriate,” He mutters at her shoes.

     “I think it would be totally fine,” She throws an arm around him and he stumbles with the vase in hand slipping slightly. I quickly scoop it up from his hands before he breaks one of Daphne's precious collector's item.

     “Sorry,” He blushes and I almost drop the vase.

     “Okay, so how about… we just spell you into something cleaner and we can leave,” She already has her wand out before anyone can say anything. The others are even paying attention now.

     “I don’t think Daphne will like that,” Oliver says.

     “Well since you are Baz’s, and he wants you to come, we don’t have a problem.”

     “Oh, Bunce, didn’t you hear? He doesn’t like to be objectified,” I mock, standing across from him.

     “That is such a relief. I thought he was always this nervous and stuttery. At least he can talk up to you,” She approvingly nods and with a steady grip on his shoulders, steadies him in front of her.

     “I really don’t think that’s such a good idea,” He says and she looks at him wide eyes.

     “Oh! Did they already give you the drink,” She looks at me now.

     “No. I don’t think so,” I don’t tell her about my small suspicions that have only grown.

     “Okay then, stand there… yes like that,” She tips her head to one side and extends the wand towards his chest.

     “Can we _not_ point… that towards my heart,” Oliver tells her with a frightened glance at the tip of the wand. My suspicious cloud over every corner of my thoughts.

     “Oh relax. I passed Magiks with a beautiful grade,” She said with full confidence. He just looks at her, then me, then back at her. He lets out a small huff and nods.

     “ **Something better!** ” When we look back at Oliver, his white shirt has been cleaned of the small dirt it was before and replaced with a white sweater and his trousers are turned into a pair of black jeans. If I were to look closer, I would see that his hair has been tamed and his cheeks have a healthier color to them. But I don’t.

     “T- wow, umm thank you,” He looks at Penny and then takes the vase and the present from me to put on the small table in the corner. He then straightens his sweater to look at us expectantly.

     “This really is above my pay grade.”

     “Most things you do in this house is above your pay grade,” Penelope looks at him and her eyes go wide again, “Right,” She slaps her forehead, “I’m Penelope, but everyone calls me Penny. That’s Dev, and that’s Niall.”

     “Hello. I’m S - Oliver,” He smiles nervously at them.

     “Right. Can we go eat now?” Dev exclaims walking towards the door. 


	4. Chapter 4

  **B A Z**

       On Dev’s request - it’s not like it’s _my_ day - we go to eat pizza. It’s not like I could argue with that. And I don’t eat in front of people anyways, so I didn’t have anything to say as we walked down the sidewalk. Bunce and Oliver seem to have separated a little forward from the rest of us and seem to be deep in conversation. It’s more words I’ve heard out of Oliver since he started working here. I want to walk faster just hear what they’re talking about, but that would mean I would be walking alone.   
****

“I know right! How do you fuck up such an easy one!”

       “Like you’re the one to talk. You couldn’t even heat up a plate of pasta without burning straight through the table.”

       “That was second year! It doesn’t count!”

       “Oh so then that snog behind the stairwell with Chloe doesn’t count either?”

       “That has nothing to do with this!” Dev narrows his eyes at Niall who smirks because he knows he’s won this round. 

       “Then that han-”

       “Okay! We’re here!” I open the door and the small bell _dings_ as it gets thrown open. I see some mages that nod towards me and some people I’ve seen before at father’s parties. No Normals usually come here since it’s situated so separately from everything. Most magic things are. And even if some Normals do stumble here upon accident, they put the small elixir in the drinks as they do back at the manor. So there is no way they can spread an obscure rumor about magic to the public. 

       I take Oliver’s arm before he can sit down with the rest of the group on the booth, and bring my mouth close to his ear. 

       “Don’t drink anything,” My breath ruffles his hair from the proximity. 

       “Why- Oh. Okay,” He nods before sliding into the booth next to Bunce. My hand buzzes as I sit across from him next to Niall. 

       “Hey! Scoot over, you guys are going to smash me into the wall,” Dev calls from the corner of the seat. 

       “We are two grown men, Dev, we can’t _scoot_ any more,” I shot him a look. 

       “Then move to the other one,” He tips his head to Penny and Oliver, who are still talking in hushed voices. 

       “It’s almost as if it’s _your_ birthday, Dev,” I snarl and plunk myself next to Oliver who moves even closer to Bunce. If I didn’t know any better, I would say he’s either scared of me, or I stink.

       We order the food and conversation takes over the table. Bunce and Niall are in a heated argument on what’s the best way to turn a horse into a unicorn. If such a thing was possible. And Dev has taken it upon himself to interrogate Oliver. 

       “So, where did you live before you came to the mansion? And how did you come to the mansion anyway?”

       “I- I lived … around. It’s a really small town, not the far. And I heard my father talking about the Grimm-Pitch manor almost every morning. He always said that they didn’t know what they had,” He flushes as realization sets in, “I… didn’t always agree with him on things.” 

       “I’m not going to tell Daphne _everything._ Chill, Oliver,” I give him a side glance and his face turns darker.

       “ _Around?_ That is a lame excuse for whatever you’re trying to hide,” Dev shakes his head in disappointment. 

       “I mean, it … I don’t - I have nothing to hide,” He tries sitting up straighter and I want to laugh at his pathetic attempts at nonchalant. 

       “Tell that to your face,” Dev chuckles and then - much to Oliver’s relief - changes the subject, “So how long has it been since the order,” He stretches over the back of the booth like him staring at the waiters is going to make them hurry up. 

       “Is he always like that?” Oliver looks at me with amusement plastered all over him. 

       “You haven’t seen him when he’s actually full,” I shake my head and he laughs. It rings through my straight to my heart and inwardly shakes me. I want him to do that forever. 

       “To be honest, I’m starving too,” He leans back and his sweater rides up, and it takes every bit of sell control living in my soulless body to not look past his face.

       “What do they feed you anyways?”

       “You mean, what do _you_ feed me? It is your house too.”

       “And you’re stalling,” I raise my eyebrow and something flashes across his face. 

       “I am _not._ I’m being smart,” His smile is blinding.

       “You-”

       “Oliver, tell me this if magic exists, then _surely_ there have to be unicorns! Right?” Bunce looks at him and she has basically answered the question without him even saying anything. 

       “I-it’s not like I know much about that. But yeah. I think it is possible,” He looks at his shoulder where she has put her hand on him. I furrow my eyebrows as he flinches ever so lightly. For a second I think she has done the same thing that she did to me in fourth year. I was feeling slightly overconfident with my 2% increase in average from hers, and she decided that it was not appropriate. That afternoon while we were all hanging out, she spelled her hand with pikes. So when she placed it on my shoulder, not gently may I add, it stabbed through the skin leaving small splinters and dots of blood on my shoulder. Let’s just say they were a pain in the ass to get out. 

       But a closer look tells me that is not the case with Oliver since he is still sitting upright and there are no dark black spikes on Bunce’s hand. 

       “See, smartass,” She looks at Niall. 

       “Yeah but he doesn’t even know _what_ magic really is. It’s not a reliable resource,” He leans back with his arms crossed. 

       “Hey, Oliver?”

       “Yeah?” He nervously looks at her, and I look at him. 

       “You know what a wand is, right?”

       “Y-yeah… yeah. A stick thing you wave around.”

       “Pretty much,” She nods at Niall as if that is an applicable answer to prove he is all educated in the Magiks. 

       “That does nothing! You can’t just magic a horn on a horse and say it’s a unicorn. You need to also… add wings or some shit. They need to be born like that,” He answers, clearly unruffled with her stubborn self. 

       “So you spell some wings on it too,” She shrugs like it’s the most obvious answer. 

       “No. No. No. They need to be _born._ Not made! And since there is no such animal who can create a unicorn. They can’t be made.”

       “But every fictional thing comes with a spec of reality. And one day, I’m going to show one to you. Don’t bother arguing with me,” She looks a little too smug. 

       “Baz!” Niall looks at me accusingly. 

       “I didn’t do anything,” I raise my hands in innocence and I see Oliver flinch again. A million questions flood me again. What happened to him? How did he actually get here? Why is he flinching?

       “Exactly! You’re supposed to be on my side.”

       “I think I might have to go with Bunce on this. How can you believe in dragons but not unicorns Niall?”

       “Because I’ve _seen_ one.”

       “So it’s mo-”

       “Wait. _What?_ When?” Oliver exclaims and immediately folds his hands over the table and rests his face in then in interest. I can see the outline of his torso and a small glimpse of freckled skin from where his shirt has ridden up. I suck in a deep breath. 

       “It was just a small thing,” He waves his hand dismissively, “We all actually saw it. But it was a baby one, just hatched that had wandered in from the woods on campus.”

       “Wait so there is like actually a magical school?” Oliver asks him.

       “Well, _duh!_ Where else would we go?” I answer, and when he looks at me with a glint in his eyes, I want to … I don’t know. Burst.

       “I- I’d heard about it, it’s just I never thought… I mean it sounds very cliche, don’t you think?”

       “Well, I mean we have to learn our magic tricks for somewhere,” I say and watch him laugh. 

       “Okay, that’s it! I’m going to check what is ta-” Dev stops abruptly when a waitress - not wearing very much which catches Dev and Niall’s attention and I watch Penny roll her eyes - brings our order over. The smell of the pizza hits our noses and everyone dives in. I watch Oliver hesitate quite a bit and wait until everyone, even I, have taken and then takes what’s left. I watch him savor it and I watch him close his eyes slightly and swallow the bites. I never knew watching someone eat could be such an event. 

       I duck down slightly and take huge bites, not wanting Oliver, or really anyone, seeing my fangs. They are this big secret that is supposed to be kept. Except mostly everyone already knows, and the ones who want to kick me out of school for it have no prof since I don’t really go around sucking the life out of people. 

       Not that I haven’t been tempted. 

       “So. Where your folks at, Oliver?” Niall asks him and I watch him try to keep a straight face and keep his gaze steady. I also see his handshake and I want to hold them. 

       “Th- They’re dead,” And everyone falls silent. 

       “I’m so sorry honey,” Penny looks at him, not with pity, just sorrow that fills her eyes. She puts an arm around his shoulder and he ever so slightly leans into her. 

       “I’ve … come to accept it. But I know my mum loved me,” He picks at his food and not make eye contact. 

       “I’m sure she did,” Dev looks at him with genuine softness in his eyes. 

       “I’m stupid. I shouldn’t have asked that,” Niall shakes his head. 

       “It’s fine. I know you guys want to make sure I’m not some … serial killer or something. You can ask whatever you please,” He smiles at them. And when everyone is back to eating and conversation takes back to a steady rhythm. I, just for a second, barely noticeable, rest my hand on his arm and take it off. Its the only comfort I know how to give. I think he feels me do it because he glances sideways but I’m already talking to Dev and taking another bite. 

       “Are those fangs?” 

       “No. They’re pearls I hide in my teeth,” I sarcastically smile at him. 

       “I’m surprised at how many of the rumors are true,” He returns the smile. 

       “ 'Every fictional things comes with a spec of reality’. Quoted Penelope Bunce,” He actually smiles this time. 

       “At least you’re listening,” He goes back to eating and when we’re all done and pay, we leave the diner. Bunce says that we should go to the pier because it’s nice weather and then they all look at me like I actually get to decide. But we all know that it’s really not up to me. 

       “I have said this before, and I’ll say it again. Whose birthday is this really?” I say as they all laugh. 

       “Oh please. It’s not like you were going to do anything else. We are the sole epiphany of your social life,” Penny says and Oliver laughs. His hair shakes and his face flushes. 

       “That’s what you would like to think, Bunce,” I walk beside Dev and Niall and everyone talks and chatters down to the pier. There are small stalls everywhere, and games that win you stuffed animals. Dev insists on beating the odds and winning one. So I spend an unnecessary amount of money on a stuffed lion that he hands to Oliver. 

       “That was a royal waste of time,” I say after Oliver holds the loin in front of his face and frowns. 

       “It’s very creepy.”

       “I could ask for another one,” Dev shrugs. 

       “They don’t let you do that. If you don’t want it, I’ll take it,” Niall snatches it from him. 

       “Yeah, I don’t want that staring at me while I sleep,” Oliver says. 

       “Yo-”

       “Let’s go to the Photo Booth!” Penny says and pulls Oliver and the rest of us to the little booth. 

       And when I say it’s little. I mean _little._ Niall, I and half of Dev are on the small chair, and Penny and Oliver are kneeling in front of us. Niall has a leg thrown over Dev’s and Oliver is right between my legs, as it happens to be. Penny is the only one who doesn’t look bothered. 

       “Okay. 1… 2… 3…” The light blinds us and in the middle of one of the pictures, Dev falls and everyone is laughing. I think I feel the booth move as our laughter rumbles it. The pictures ends, and Penny puts in more money for another round. This time everyone makes faces and actually poses. 

       Penny gets the strips of photos from the outside and they are … something. There is one where Niall is frowning at Dev and Oliver is on the brink of laughter as I look at him, and the only part of Penny in the picture is her hair. The last session has a picture that I like the most. Everyone is, roughly, in place and smiling at the camera. Dev has an arm on Niall’s thigh and his hair is ruffled. Penny is kneeling and a little bit of her knee is in the corner of the picture. I am in the corner and actually kind of smiling with no teeth. But my attention immediately goes to Oliver. He is smiling, all teeth and light, and leaning ever so slightly on me. His hand rests on my knee and his hair bumps again my shirt. He’s honestly the first thing everyone looks at in the picture. 

       “Okay, so I guess everyone will get two,” Penny starts handing out the pictures, and I get that last one and one in which everyone has their tongue out and eyes crossed. 

“Okay, so now what?” I ask them.

       “It’s your birthday,” Dev shrugs.

       “Oh so _now_ I can decide what to do,” I think for a second and come up with an idea.

       “Okay. Come with me,” Everyone follows me to the diner front that we ate from. From there I take them to a more deserted area. I can see everyone look around in question, and if I didn’t already know this place by heart, I would be curious too. 

       I turn the corner to a very broken down, very deserted, kind of haunted little place. It is really only four walls that seem to want to fall any second. There are a couple of short steps that lead to the door which is always half open. Not even the homeless come here since there really isn't anything. 

       The door squeaks as I push it open and then clean my hands on my legs of the dirt that cakes them. I hear the other’s footsteps follow behind me, and then I shut the door afterward. 

“If I’m going to die, can you tell my dog I love her,” Dev says to the empty walls. 

       “Your dog doesn’t give a shit,” I say back, and then clap my hands, beginning to say something.

       “Careful, don’t do that too hard. The walls may fall,” Penny says and I roll my eyes. 

       “Does everyone have their wands?” And everyone nods but Oliver, who just looks at me expectantly, “I’ll let you borrow mine.”

       “But he doesn’t have magic, Baz. I think that flash really took away some brain cells,” Penny remarks. 

       “It’ll work,” I think, “Okay, okay,” And suddenly I’m really nervous to show them the thing that is supposed to be only mine. 

       “You just have to…” And I get my wand out of my sleeve. The sun is hanging low in the sky and because there is only one window here, everything is dark. I can see flashes of Penny’s rings, Niall’s earring, and the small glints in Oliver’s eyes. 

       I turn to the wall in front of me, extend my want, and close my eyes, “ **A burst of color!** ,” And out of the tip of my wand, color explodes. I think of red and wave my arm around, spreading the door everywhere. I think and the magic does. 

       I can feel everyone behind me in awe and then I hear them do the same thing. I know that Oliver is still behind me, staring at the space that I just violated with color. 

       “Here,” I hand him my wand and he looks blankly at it like it is just another piece of wood. 

       “I don’t have any magic,” He looks at me.

       “I’ll cast the spell, all you have to do is hold the wand and think of a color,” I come up beside him, my shoulder knocking against his. Everyone has transpired along the depths of the abandoned place and I hear the soft _whoosh_ that the spell makes when it’s cast. I put my hand over where his is on the wand. I can feel the heat of his skin and how he slightly shivers from the cold of my hands. He tightens his grip on the wand, and I tighten mine on his hand. I don’t think anything else could really matter right now. 

       “You need to think of a color. Okay?” I almost whisper right against his ear and he slightly nods. I can see all his freckles from this close-up and I want to kiss every one of them, and then some more. 

       “ **A burst of color!** ” I keep my hand on his and he swings his arm all over the wall. Bursts of bright blue come out from the end of his wand. And the color isn’t just color. No. The colors are glowing and have literal light wrapped around them. They fall on the wall in splatters and light the small space we are in. I remove my hand and it keeps going. He’s like this never-ending pool of light that spills through the small entity of my wand. It’s the best thing I’ve ever seen. 

       And to make it even better, he changes the colors. Without even reciting the spell. One second it was blue, and now it’s bright gold. It makes marble patterns on the walls and I’m so glad everyone is further away. They would stop him and ask questions. But this isn’t a moment for questions. This is just magic in its unfiltered existence. 

       He suddenly lets the wand fall and the magic immediately stops. We both look at the wand and then at him, and then at the wall he just painted. 

       “I- I did that?” His eyes point to the wall.

       “I definitely didn’t.”

       “Oh,” And we both fall silent. It’s the kind of silence that happens when you have so many questions, you can’t decide which one comes first. 

       “Tha- This is a pretty cool thing you do,” He finally says and looks back at me.

       “I’ve been coming here ever since mum died. I don’t really know how it became a habit, though.”

       “Have you made some actual art on the walls?”

       “Yeah,” And I know he’s going to want to see it, “But I cover it up. These walls probably have layers and layers over them. I think if you use a spell, you can see all the way back to my first one.”

       “I’m going to want to see some, one day,” One day implies there is going to be a day. In the future that will result in us back here. My brain goes hazy with all the possibilities. 

       “And I think I might show them to you,” And we are back to looking at each other. Another silence falls over us, and this one implies something different. And I’m just about to find out what that something is, but Dev comes in.

       “Hey gu- _Woah_. Who made that,” And now everyone is looking at the wall Oliver did. 

       “He did,” I nod towards Oliver, and he seems to curl upon himself. 

       “B-but… what? How?” Niall asks and looks at him baffled. 

       “I think it might have to do with the fact that I, obviously, don’t have magic and because he,” He nods towards me, “Helped me, and that mix of no and a lot of magic made that,” Now he gestures to the wall. 

       “I never knew that could happen,” Penney has that look on her face that says that she’s thinking way too hard and is going to find out whatever it is that I just found out. 

“You don’t know everything, Bunce. Come on let's go before the ghosts come for their midnight snack,” I lead everyone out, and just before I close the door, I cover up the wall. I know that I’m going to come back here, unveil it, and wonder about the science of it. 

       I also know that once we get home, I’m going to wonder about the science of Oliver.

***

**S I M O N**

       We get back to the manor and everyone is hyper-aware about everything. I don’t think Baz shares personal things with them that much, so when they do get a glimpse of Baz Pitch, they hold on to it. _I_ hold on to it. He has, very efficiently, kept some distance between us, and I wonder if it’s because he has figured out what's wrong with me and is going to fire me. Or maybe he’s going to categorize me as weird and odd because I’m a servant that he has just celebrated his birthday with. Anyway, it doesn’t look good. Or maybe, if the faiths have heard my prayers, he doesn’t think twice about it.

       I was wrong. 

       Everyone gathers in the family room next to the fire, taking off coats, scarfs, and gloves. Penney has got us all hot chocolate from the kitchen, and Dev and Niall are fighting over who gets to sit on the bean bag. Baz just perches himself on the end of the couch and I marvel in the sheer flawless structure of him. 

       “Okay can we put all the pictures together,” Penny sits on the carpet and gets out her line of photos, followed by everyone else. We laugh and point at all the stupid faces the camera has gotten. I notice Baz looks prim and proper in each one. Even in the one with his head tilted and mouth midway through a laugh. My breath catches in my throat. 

       Eventually, Penny has to leave because her mum was calling, and Dev and Niall just stay in one of the million rooms in the manor. 

       I get Penny’s coat for her as she stands to leave and she pulls me with her to the door and stops in front of it. 

       “It was surprisingly nice to meet you, Oliver,” And she does something no one has done in so long. She hugs me. And I take in the soft scent of her as her hair tickles my nose but I don’t care. I sigh in contempt and if she catches, she doesn’t comment, only hugs me tighter. It feels like something beautiful and even though I have only known her for a day, I want to tell her everything about me and council my life. 

       “It was nice to meet you too,” I pull back and look at her. Her eyes are softer than they were before. 

       “I know you probably don’t fully trust me right now. And I also know that there are some things you haven’t said. Some really important things. But I’m not going to force you, I’m just going to tell you that I’m here if you need to talk,” And with that she nods at me, squeezing my arm, and shuts the door after her. 

       I kind of just stand there staring at the place she stood and I have a horrible rock stuck in my throat. I want to huddle up and cry but I only lean my head on the door and take in a deep breath. 

       “Not that I don’t love to see you marvel the scent of my door, but I need to talk to you,” Baz says from behind me and I reluctantly turn to him. I don’t want him to see that my eyes are tinged red and my face flushed. 

       “C-can we just talk tomorrow. I’ll find you first thing. I promise,” I look down at my shoes. 

       “And why can’t you just take five minutes right now,” He crosses his arms and leans on one side. It gets harder to speak. 

       “P-please,” I don’t think he notices and I think back to father shutting me up. I realize he has taught me to get better at not letting the cry burst through my words. 

       “Fine,” He rolls his eyes but doesn’t move. I want him to go back to the family room, or his room, or anywhere else. Just anywhere where I don’t have to meet his eyes to pass by him. 

       But I do. I pass by him and I think I imagine the slight surprise in his eyes when he sees the disdain on my face, but it’s gone with a blink of an eye. I hurry down the stairs and to my quarters. Everyone is already in bed, I realize it is really late. My blanket curls around my shoulders, suppressing the quiet shudders that run up my spine and the pillows muffle my voice. 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**B A Z**

       It would be smart to not let him walk away, but I do because I’m a horrible person and have no practice in the comfort of others. I have a restless first sleep as officially 18 but I find the strip of photos Bunce gave me and rest them on the lamp base next to my bed.   
****

~~~

       The next morning, as I come up from breakfast, my bed is already made and the usual trace of Oliver is oddly bare. He usually knocks off a pillow on accident, or a drawer is left slightly open, even a little dip in the bed where he must’ve learned. None of that, just the quick hurried motions of someone on a time limit. 

       I try to find him in the kitchen, but Ebb tells me that he has garden duties today. And sure as well, he’s at the back of the house, where no one goes, gathering up the fallen leaves and straightening up the swing set. If he hears me come, he doesn’t show it. But then again, not everyone has vampire reflexes. 

       “You said first thing in the morning,” I say when I’m close enough, and when he looks up I want to take his face in my hands and comfort him because he looks _tired_. I stand next to him and he leans slightly on the side of the swing set. 

       “Yeah, sorry. I had… things to do. I do have a job you know,” He says with an edge. 

       “And I hired you, and I can excuse you,” I try to hold his gaze, but he keeps slipping. 

       “Can we just get this over with? What do you want to say? Should I work harder? Be more professional? I didn’t serve your dinner right?”

       “What are you talking about? I just wanted to talk about what happened yesterday. At that abandoned building.”

       “Nothing happened. You gave me your wand, I did something, we left,” He shrugs and shuffles his feet, twiddling his thumbs. 

       “And are we just going to ignore you changing colors without so much as a spell. Let alone making your paint _glow_ ,” I say with the same tone. 

       “You probably did the spell wrong when you gave it to me. That’s why,” He turns around and keeps gathering useless leaves. 

       “Dammit, Oliver! Look at me! I didn’t do it wrong, I’ve done it thousands of times. There is something you’re not telling me,” I walk to where he is now, under the huge shade of the tree. 

       “Why. Does. Everyone. Keep. Saying. That. _Fuck!_ I’m not hiding anything! And even if I was, you’re the _last person_ I would tell. I don’t even _know_ you!” He exasperates and he’s so angry and it’s as if one wrong move and he might explode into all the colors. 

       “I know that,” I run my hands through my hair, confused on how I should respond. This was not how I expected this to go. 

       “So then what do you want? You already have me as a personal maid. Might as well use me,” He huffs and his eyebrows are knitted together, but I can’t tell if he’s frustrated, or mad, or just being him. 

       “ _Fine_. You want me to _use_ you. Get me an inventory of all the people coming next week at the ball. Get me the list of important people as well, including the school’s Mage and his companions. I want a detailed copy of the documents inlisted to the nearby villagers coming and their credentials. After that, I would like you to press my green suit and tell father that I shall meet his acquaintance after dinner,” I stand up straighter and look him in the eyes, “I want this done before sunset,” I look at him gobsmacked. 

       “I don’t even know what half of that means!”

       “Figure it out. And,” I look behind me, “If you get it wrong, I’m just going to keep adding more.”  

***

**S I M O N**

       There might’ve been a moment yesterday when I wasn’t so harsh on Baz. Might’ve given him a chance. But now, as I sort through endless papers in the home library, I curse him in every language and way I know possible. Curse him and his authority and privilege and cockiness and slicked back hair. Curse him and his power, his knowledge, and his influence and his endless contacts, millions of friends, and hundreds of suits. Him and his stupid smirk and condescending tones.   
****

I try to sift through papers, notes, old contacts. I have no idea who any of these people are and it makes me wish I had listened more often to the gossip father used to bring home. I write down some more names and then move on to the villagers. He said to write down their “credentials”, whatever that means. I start at the top of the guest list again and try to find each name in the contact book they have. Each name in the contact book has a brief overview of the family. Where they live, what they’re known for, if they have any children, their magical powers - how powerful they are- and the gossip and rumors swerving around about them. Whoever took the precious time to write this has tried to be as unbiased as possible. The writing is in neat cursive and it doesn’t look like they hesitated much while writing it down. I wonder if all rich people know all other rich people.

       I only make it through 10 villagers when Ebb rushes in and grabs ahold of my arm to pull me up from my place in the corner of the library. I had found a deserted corner where the shelves surrounded me on all sides. You had to have memorized the library blueprint to even know if it existed. Or just lucky guess as Ebb has probably done. 

       “Where are we going?” I ask as she pulls me through a turn in the hall and down a narrow path. 

       “Did you forget something?” I furrow my eyebrows trying to remember if I had left something in the oven, or if I had forgotten to assist Baz’s room. I hadn’t.

       “No, I don’t think so,” My concern deepens as we reach Mr. Grimm’s office door. I hadn’t been in this part of the manor after the first time I had accidentally stumbled upon it. I knew that only a selected amount of servants came here, upon order. 

       “Well you did something because they’re talking about you,” She pressed herself against the walls adjacent to the door, and we could make out bits and pieces of conversations. 

       “… It’s not my goddam fault … bad judgments…” It was Baz’s voice that shouted laced with anger and something like shock. 

       “… I’ve seen….. he was closer…. You know better than this… I saw…. birthday…”

       “… you don’t … talking about. He… nothing…”

       “… father… I know …. Orphan…”

       “… know anything…”

       Ebb yanked me backward onto the stairs and pushed me down to the second floor the exact moment the door burst open. Between the railings, we could see Baz with his hands in his hair and his father appeared a moment later straightening his suit jacket. 

       “That was completely unnecessary, Basilton,” His father looks at him, shaking his head. 

       “That conversation was unnecessary, father,” He had the same tone.

       “I just want to make sure we aren’t going to have a repeat of last time.”

       “You don’t know what happened,” He turned and didn’t bother with another look at his father before ascending the stairs. Ebb and I made our way to the platform before he could turn the corner and she gave me a look before scurrying off. The fight lingered in the depths of my mind as I went back to the library and tried to think why Ebb thought they were talking about me. Or how Ebb even ended up in that part of the house to hear the argument. 

       “Oh, Oliver,” I saw Katherine as she wiped her forehead, walking to me. 

       “Hey,” I leaned against the wall. 

       “So, did you hear about Florence?” She had a glint in her eyed that screamed to be let out. 

       “No, I didn’t.”

       “I heard he got fired because he sneaked a phone call from the private office of Mr. Grimm a week ago.”

       “What?” My attention was suddenly very focused on her. 

       “Yeah. I heard it was only a minute long, too. It was to his sick sister somewhere across the world,” She shook her head in disappointment, “I feel for him. I haven’t talked to my parents in 5 years,” I looked at her baffled. She was only 3 years older than I was. 

       “You have worked here since you were 15?”

       “Yeah a little after my birthday. I got lost on my way home, and when I did get home, daddy wasn’t so happy,” She shuffled her feet and her eyes were horribly sad. I felt my heart lurch, and I squeezed her arm in comfort.

       “I’m so sorry.”

       “I guess it happens. It could’ve turned out worse you know,” The corners of her mouth turned up, but it wasn’t really a smile. I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to tell her that I understood more than she could ever imagine. But you can’t compare pain, and I didn’t want to tell her. She was nice enough, and she was hurting, but she could also tell others. 

       “I guess it could’ve. How long do you plan to work here?” I waved my arms around to gesture. 

       “I guess ‘till I find some nice bloke that takes in broken souls,” I refused to think about how close to home that hit. 

       “I’m sure you will. I bet half the people coming here tonight wouldn’t be able to keep their eyes off you. Servant or not.”

       “There is someone…” She blessed slightly, “I think he might show up tonight,” She bit her lip and let out a small laugh.

       “Do I know him?” I raised my eyebrows and folded my hands.

       “I think he knows Mr. Pitch,” She blushed further.

       “It’s one of his friends?” I thought of Dev and Niall and how this nice enough girl could crush on those idiots. 

       “I wouldn’t say _friend_ , but he looks dashing in a tux,” And we both laugh until she abruptly stopped and gave me a quick look before disappearing. I turned around and crashed into Baz’s chest.

       “I would say go do your work, but I doubt you’re doing even that correctly,” He folds his arms and leans, mimicking my earlier pose. 

       “I will have you know that I only have the village contacts left,” I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a little proud of doing all that before sunset. 

       “Ah the most important part of the task,” He shook his head and _tsk_ ed. 

       “Can’t you just appreciate it? I didn’t sign up to be your secretary,” I huff. 

       “I’ll have you know that I’m your boss. You should be more careful with that tone,” He comes right up against my face until our noses touch and I can feel his breath on my cheek. 

       “Your father is my boss,” My voice comes out in a whisper. 

       “We both know that’s not true,” His voice is soft and has an edge and I can almost _feel_ the movements of his lips.

       “Don’t kid yourself Baz,” My breath flutters a loose hair on his cheek. I can see the granite grey of his eyes, the slight damper of his breath, the careful way he breaths. 

       So it shouldn’t have been a surprise when he leans forward just a slight bit and kisses. 

       But it was. I heard myself gasp slightly in shock. It just gave him entrance to my mouth and he pushed me up against the wall to rub closer against me. I don’t even realize when I start kissing him back. When my body moves up against his in sync. When my hand runs through his dark hair that falls on his face and he rubs the nape of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. The kiss is alive with electric power and I don’t register him moving into an empty bedroom. Opening the door. Pushing me in and shutting it behind him. 

       It's like a burning fuse all the way down my stomach, lower. His hands are fire personified and when I bit his lip slightly, he lets out a sound that would haunt my dreams. 

       My chest heaves and he pushes me down on the bed and in a second he’s on top of me. His hands all over me and I feel every fingertip. Every place he touches and every slight hiccup in his breath as he moves lower. There are so many things wrong right now. He doesn’t know me. He doesn’t even know my name. He doesn’t know who he’s kissing. Who he’s touching. I feel like a fraud in my own body as he lets out that noise again from the back of his throat that I will be replaying over and over again later. 

       “B-Baz. Baz. Baz! _Stop_!” I push him off my neck where he was kissing a mole. He looks down at me, his cheeks are flushed and his mouth is pink and swollen, evidence of what just happened. I see where his shirt is ruffled and a few of his buttons are undone. 

       “What?” His voice is deep and dark and moans against the bed in regret of what I’m going to do. 

       “I- I can’t,” I get up and shake my head. I’m shaking my head, and now that I look at my hands, they’re shaking too. Everything is moving and I feel like throwing up. I don’t what him to think this is about him. This isn’t about him. I’m broken. I can’t do this because there is something in me that is broken. I think back to what Katherine said. ‘ _Someone who takes in broken souls_ ’. I look at Baz. I want him to know. I need him to know. I just don’t know how to tell him.

       He wouldn’t want to kiss me, he wouldn’t want me if he knew. I don’t even realize when I start crying until he moves closer to me and wipes my cheek with his thumb. He slowly puts his hand on my shoulder and I let him. Against everything my impulses are telling me, I let him hold me. I lean up against his chest and my tears darken up his shirt. I inhale the scent of him and I let myself have this moment before everything goes to shit. 

***

**B A Z**

       I’m not good at this. I don’t know what to do with people when they’re crying. I don’t know comfort. But he still leans up against me and I let him. I wonder if I’m doing it right, but that doesn’t even seem to be the biggest thing right now. I know this isn’t about me. I know there is something that I don’t know. Something that makes him flinch from human touch and plages his impulses. I want to drive a sword through that horrid monster.   
****

“M-my, dad. I… it’s not you. I need you to know. I- It’s not you,” He looks at me and his lips are jutting out slightly, “I don’t know where I fucked up, Baz. I don’t know. He just said that no one needs to know about the monster in me. And I let him convince me,” He looks at his legs that are folded underneath his and I see his tears fall.

       “What monster?”

       “ _Me,_ Baz. I’m the monster.”

       “What are you talking about?”

       “Give me your wand.”

       “What?”

       “Give me your wand and then you can fire me,” I look at him in confusion but handed him my wand from where it’s fallen on the bed. He takes a deep breath and points it at the ceiling. I thought he was going to make the walls fall down. But he did something else. He made the lights flicker, the chandelier rattled, the bed shook. Our shoes floated off the floorboards and the space around him turned to bright, glittering light. 

       And then it was over. The bed when back to normal, the lights stopped flickering and the light was gone. He lowered the wand on the bed, got up without even bothering to look at me, and was gone. I watched the back of him leave the room and shut the door behind him. I watched the ceiling lights, the lamp on the bedside, the pillars of the bed, the shoes strewn on the floor. When I picked my wand back up it was jittering with hot energy. 


	6. Chapter 6

**S I M O N**

      I don’t even get as far as the stairs when Baz comes up behind me and hold onto my elbow. My breath catches in my throat. “Baz, not here. Not _now_ ,” My voice is a silent plea. 

      “Then when else, Oliver? You wouldn’t want to talk about it later. I _know_ you wouldn’t. Please. Just… tell me what I can do. Tell me how I can help,” I might just turn into goo right here on this very expensive carpet. I could just stop. Just tell him no matter the cost. He already kissed me, and I have a good amount of money to take my business elsewhere. 

      I look at him, searching for something in his eyes. And a small switch inside me ticks opens up and I take his hand - warm and solid against my shaking one and lead him to his room up the stairs. The door shuts behind me and he sits on the bed, eyes inquisitive. Curious. I don’t know what to do with myself and so I stand to lean against the drawers, hands braced behind me. 

      “My father wasn’t a very good man, Baz. He did unspeakable things to my mum and I and then painted a perfect picture of the family later that night. He was always on the hunt to create a name for himself, that’s why he kept my mum and I in the shadows behind him. My mum was a witch. She… came from the village far from where she met my father. 

      They met at a ball, similar to the one we’re hosting tonight, but it was a masquerade. She’d heard in the papers that it was a spectacular place to meet a young gentleman. She and one friend, came to the ball that night. They were running out of crops, the season hadn’t been kind. When she met my father, he … courted her. And they got married a few years later.” My voice turned low, my legs felt hollow and so I sat on the bed, my legs folded under me. I felt Baz’s gaze on me the entire time, thinking about all the ways this could go. 

      “They had me a few years later. My father knew of her … talents. He knew of her magic and he loved her for it. But something in him had always been cold and when he lost his fortune, he lost his title too. He didn’t like the home we had. It wasn’t a small house, it was big enough with an extra room. We had paintings on the walls and food on the table from my mum’s work. She was extraordinary, Baz. She would paint all these impossible things and then beam down at me and taught me to do the same. She loved that I loved to paint, and when my father was out of the house, we would paint the trees in our backyard. Like, paint on them.” I felt myself smile and when I looked up Baz was smiling too. 

      “But these last few years have been the worst, and when my magic started to show, inherited from my mother’s bloodline, my father when exceptionally nuts. He _hated_ me. He loathed my presence and confined me to my small room. I wrecked the walls with burns and fluorescent light. 

      He hit her one day. So hard I heard it in the floorboards. I burst out that door, burned right through the wood and found a stick to point at him. I hurled everything in me through that stick, that bond, and because of the anger in me, it only paralyzed him. Not killed. I helped my mum but she was bleeding out. A miscarriage I later found. I buried her with the help of her friends and then I ran. I ended up at an orphanage, but I ran from there too, the day before I can here, actually. Changed my name, took out my long forgotten wand and came here.  

      I knew about you because my dad said you guys had wealth you didn’t deserve. Yet he was obsessed with what you had and when that story came out of Daniel, he joked I should take his place. Being that I’m no better. And here I am,” I looked down at my hands, not crying. I wasn’t crying I was mourning and there was a deafening pain, but I wasn’t weeping and something in me eased.

      “What’s his name? Your father, what title does he currently hold?” Baz’s voice was clipped, restrained. I didn’t want him doing anything that the voice implied. 

      “David. His name was David but my mum called his Davy. Baz I don’t need you to … do anything. You’re going to cause trouble for no reason. He probably drunk himself to death years ago,” At least that’s what I hoped. One look at Baz indicated he knew it too. He moved closer on the bed and took my hands in his, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. Gentle, firm, soft. 

      “What’s _your_ name? You said you changed it to … Oliver, I’m guessing. So who are you really?” His gaze was so demanding it felt like he already knew. Like he saw deep into the soul of me and knew. 

      “Simon. My name is Simon Snow,” He smiled and my palms turned clammy. 

      “Simon Snow,” He tested it on his tongue. The words smooth and careless, “You are not broken, Simon and I swear to you that I will make you believe that,” He leaned down and kissed me.

      This kiss was slower, sweeter like we had all the time in the world and we might as well have. This time, I voluntarily opened my mouth up to him, pulled _him_ closer. I pushed him against the headboard of the bed, his back leaned up against, not breaking the kiss for a second. I straddled him and took his face in both my hands, tilting my head and flickering my tongue on the roof of his mouth. His moan was unholy in a way that sent waves of pleasure straight through my veins. His hands came to my sides playing with the fabric of the button down I was wearing. Pulling it out of my trousers, his long fingers picking at the buttons until the whole of my chest was laid bare for him, his eyes predatory. 

***

**B A Z**

      I think I was I dreaming of this until Simon bit my neck, the skin where it meets my chest. My eyes flickered and I know he could feel my arousal. His breath was coming out ragged and I wanted to _devour_ him. I wanted to take him right here on this bed when we had to be down in an hour for the guests. I broke my attention from his neck long enough to pick my wand and lock the door. His eyes following every move my hand made.   
****

I put my wand down and he took my hand, not breaking my gaze and kissed my fingers.

      I think my heart stopped beating for a moment. I couldn’t breathe as he flicked his tongue down my finger. Regaining my senses I took his face in my hands again and pushed him down on the bed. Our legs a tangled mess on the bed, my hands up his chest roaming everywhere. I wanted him so bad, he was right here and I was still aching. 

      I pushed off his shirt and he didn’t stop me when I unbuckled his belt, his arousal pushing out under those tight trousers that were devastatingly flattering. My fingers were on the band of them when he flipped us over, his breath so ragged I could _feel_ it under the hand I had on his chest. 

      Him on all fours above me, shirtless and breathless, his neck red and angry from where I had marked hin, it was a picture I could’ve looked at for eternity. 

      He just looked at me, his hair down, brushing my nose, his eyes so fucking blue and bright and … full of hunger of a different kind. And when his mouth met that part of my neck where I was the most sensitive, I couldn’t help the long noise of approval that came from my mouth. I felt him shudder with it as he placed his hands on either side of my head and kissed me. Hot, seductive, and slow. So devastatingly _slow_. I think he knew the effect it had on me as his cruel hand drifted down to the hem of my sweater and pulled it off. His honey gold skin contrasting against the pale plane of mine. 

      I didn’t imagine it when he whispered, “Beautiful,” so softly, it was our own little secret. He leaned down and licked all the way up my chest, stopping at the base of my neck. 

      “Kinky,” I was breathless but he raised a brow, a look I hadn’t seen on him before. Wicked. It should not be humanly possible to find a person you want so bad it makes your spine arc when he runs a finger down your side. I could feel his small smile. 

      His hand stopped his roaming right over the crotch of my jeans and I made a noise of disapproval when he stopped. 

      “We have to be down in,” He looked at the wall clock, “15 minutes, Baz” There was a hoarse edge to his voice as I knew mine had too. 

      “Fuck them,” I took him by the back of the neck and flipped us over, his legs wrapped around my torso. 

      “ _Baz_ ,” I couldn’t tell if it was a moan or a warning. 

      “Mhmm,” My hands traveled to his back, down his spine, cupping his ass in the end. 

      “Baz, come on,” I pulled away, but his legs were still wrapped around me, I raised my eyebrow, smirking. He huffed, tilting his head back, murmuring something like a silent prayer, and got up on his forearms, legs folded on either side of me. 

      “They won’t miss us for a few minutes,” I say since he was as reluctant as I was to move.

      “Ebb wanted me in the kitchen, I still have to work,” He says smiling, pushing me off slightly, hanging down on the side of the bed to get his shirt. I watched him button it and then fix his collar tucking them in, his hair a wild mess on his head from where I had done my bidding with it. “Okay, just… stop looking at me like _that.”_

      “I’m just looking, you’re the one adding underlying meaning to it,” I shrugged, narrowing my eyes and biting my lip earning a slap in the chest from him. 

      “Baz, I can’t go out like … _this_ ,” His lips were pressed in a thin line, cheeks flushed from embarrassment. My laughter howled all the way down the hall. 

***

**S I M O N**

      I was still nervously fidgeting, trying to think of the most unarousing things when Ebb came at me with a flurry of motion.  
****

“Oliver, there you are! You’re needed in the reception hall,” She looked me over and for a nervous second, I thought she could see what I’d done with Baz moments before, “Why aren’t you dressed? Go get dressed and then meet me in the living room. Where is Theresa?” She murmured off, looking for someone else as I cursed at myself and raced to get dressed.

      Ten minutes later, I was back in the suspenders, crispy shirt, bowtie, and clean pressed trousers. My hair had been washed and patted down as much as humanly possible and my eyes weirdly bright. I think there was a hop in my step if I would go as far as to say that. 

      I was carrying a tray of bite-sized appetizers, mixing in with the crowd, offering to people and going over when I’d been called. My feet were adorned with shiny black shoes that sounded on the wooden floors of the house as I raced from one person to another. Everyone in grand attire making a statement of themselves. I was just offering a glass of champagne to a man in a blush pink suit when I caught Baz’s eye.

      He was leaning against the wall to the left, talking with a blond male about 5 years older than us. He had his face schooled into a serene, powerful look, looking at him, you knew this was his mansion. He was in the navy blue suit that I’d first picked out for him on his birthday, his hair wasn’t gelled back like usual, surprisingly. It was hanging free but tamely, framing his face. His lips pulled into a ghost of a smile as he excused himself. 

      I for one tried to blend in with the crows and lose him in it. I don’t know what I’d do if he approached me in this crowd, between all these people. 

      Thankfully, I didn’t have you. Penny, bless her, put a hand on my arm and beamed, “Oliver, this is Micah, my boyfriend. He was visiting and I thought it wise to bring him here. Though I may be regretting that decision,” She looked around, and Micah laughed at her lovingly caressing her arm. 

      “Hello,” His voice was deep but friendly, Penny looked to me, “Do you want to get out of here?” He voice was laced with wicked intent. 

      “I’m _working,”_ I held up the silver tray with empty glasses on it in emphasis. 

      “Yes, but you are doing Baz a favor by getting out of here. He will have an excuse to leave too then, right?” She looked over my shoulder at … Baz who was standing there. I hadn’t even heard him approach, and my cheeks instantly flushed. 

      “I wouldn’t be wise to plan an escape from my own party,” He mused at her, a hand gently brushing against my own before disappearing into his pocket. 

      “Fine, I’ll just take Oliver. Come one then,” And maybe because I knew that there won’t be consequences, to took her hand and let her lead me out of the grand hall. Micah followed behind, lightly chuckling at the way Penny’s hair bounced as she walked. I heard the soft breath Baz released behind us before his shoes clicked on the floorboards behind us and ended up on Micah’s side. 

      Baz glowered at people who glanced his way, hands stuffed in his dark trousers, walking with calm nonchalance. I could feel the energy radiating off him, hear the soft sound of his breathing and the light chuckle that escaped him as Micah made a joke. 

      Penny slammed through the front door, heels clicking on the marble steps and swirled around, violet skirts flaring around her. She waved to Micah to join her and he grabbed her around the waist, lifting her slightly off the ground. We walked behind them, planting ourselves on the second step on the marble step. I felt the beautiful energy they released, and I felt the love that they had from all the way here, she was smiling at him like he was the only person in this garden. 

      Baz must’ve realized because he nudged my shoulder and grabbed my hand, leading me off to somewhere. His hand was so cold I thought I might hear it sizzle against the burning heat of mine. The stars overhead were twinkling with electric energy, mixed with the golden lights surrounding the platform. It was magical without even being labeled as such. Magic had weaved itself into the foundation of this mansion. 

      Baz rounded the corner of the house, far from the laughter of the living room and the small mumbles coming from Penny and Micah. This was a part of the house I hadn’t been to before, I didn’t have garden duty here ever and I could see why. The blossoms were … brighter here, the bushes carved to every leaf and not one thorn out of place. We were walking down a cobblestone walkway, and when we were far away from everyone else, Baz held my hand. Not brushing it, no he grabbed it like a lifeline. He squeezed my hand, fingers between his, and lifted up to his lips to kiss. 

      I don’t think I was breathing as he did that, and when he pushed me against the wall, I definitely felt breathless. He was so close and suddenly my skin was tingling in every place he touched, every fingertip touching my hip, my chest now traveling up to cup my cheek. I craned my head up slightly, looking up at him, his grey eyes full of twinkling stars. The moonlight made his already pale skin glow in an unearthly way, not from this world. 

      It was in a heartbeat, a blink of an eye, one second we were staring at each other in the middle of the cobblestone walkway, and the next he had me pushed up against the rough edge of the wall. One hand resting on the side of my head the other on my chest. My breath gushed out of me as he leaned down, not to my lips but the side of my neck. He treated the moles on my neck as a target, tracing his lips against everyone he could. His teeth grazed the side of my neck, biting down on the skin gently, flicking his tongue as he does. Each movement sending ripples down my spine, right to my core. 

      He didn’t falter, his attention on my neck like he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, doing nothing other than this. My hands traveled to the nape of his neck, traveling upward to his silken hair. He could very well hear my breath, so close to his ear. I lifted his face off my neck, his eyes in slits, filled with wanting and need, arousal and desire masking his usual nonchalant gaze. It hitched my breath in my throat, that unfiltered predatory look. 

      I smashed my lips against his without warning, taking the control now. His surprise was short lived as he responded with equal greediness, his hands already on the buckles of my belt when I took them in my own. 

      “Not… not here,” I breathed into his mouth. He bit my lip in return, releasing a moan from deep in my throat. 

      “Do you really expect me to stop?” He raised an eyebrow, meeting my gaze before focusing his attention back on my neck. My eyes fluttered close on their own accord before I forced them open and stepped away from his touch, everything in me screaming _more_. 

      “ _Baz_ comes on,” I patted my hair down while he just….. watched. He watched me straighten my pants, buckle my belt for which I huffed a laugh at him, and put my suspenders back on my shoulders. 

      “You forgot something, _Simon_ ,” His breath mingling with mine again as he stepped forward, lifted his fingers to my collar and started buttoning my shirt. I hadn’t even noticed it open.

      “When did you do that?” I looked at him in disbelief, he just winked in response, kissing my cheek before stepping back. I still held his hand loosely between us as we walked back to the light of the front lawn. 

      Penny and Micah were now in plain grass, her skirts around her as she sat with his head in her lap gazing at the stars. They turned to us as we walked back and I let go of Baz’s hand. But they had already seen yet nothing on either of their faces revealed anything but amusement, 

      “Were you guys lost in the dark?” Penny gleamed as I sat crisscrossed in front of her, my face still heated from the moment before. 

      “Turns out Oliver here,” Baz gestured to me, sitting with his legs extended to the side, his back leaning against my shoulder ever so slightly, “is scared of the monsters in the bushes,” His laughter rumbled through my body. 

      I looked at him, gasping, “Oh really Mr. I Sleep With Monsters On My Headboard?” 

      “It's an architectural beauty that you seize to appreciate,” He looked to Penny for backup that she failed to provide, only looking at us humorously. 

      “Its weird is what it is,” I flicked the back of his head which made him turn back to look at me, pinching my arm in response, “Hey!” He just stuck his tongue out in response. 

      “You know your fly is open, right Bazzy boy?” Penny laughed, head tiled back to the sky. Baz’s hand flicked to his zipper, pulling it back up as I joined Penny in her laughter. 

      “This is _your_ fault,” He hissed, but there was no harsh edge to his tone which only made Penny laugh harder. 

      “How is it my fault?” I said with laughter laced in my words, just to rile him up. 

      “Yeah Baz, how _is_ it his fault?” Penny taunted, we both looked to each other and burst into another fit of laughter. 

      “Oh, you know _very_ well how,” He looked to me and I pushed his head back, the proximity getting to me. Penny looked between him and I and it was like a light bulb went off in her eyes. 

      “Oh.. _oh._ I see,” She smiled at us and then looked back up to the star-flecked sky.

      “Would you like to share your moment of genius?” Baz retorted. I couldn’t tell if he saw the way she looked between us. If he saw how the gleam in her eyes indicated that she knew _exactly_ the reason for my wrinkled shirt and Baz’s light blush. 

      “I think it would make _Oliver_ here want to crawl in a hole,” She smiled to herself and Micah looked up at her from his spot on her lap, questions painting his facial expression. They shared some sort of conversation between them that consisted of furious glances and raised eyebrows. In the end, he shared the same smile she did and started to play with the pads of her fingers. 

      I glanced at Baz to find him already looking at me, a smirk on his slightly swollen mouth. I leaned back on the palms of my hands stretching out my legs, a small smile dancing on my lips. 

      “How about that move you pulled at the campus last week, Bunce?” Baz said, his voice a smooth casual note. 

      “He deserved that punch. It’s just not right to drop your packets on my feet and then blame me for it. He should’ve been wearing his spectacles,” She shrugged and her smile was proud. I burst out laughing at the end of her sentence. 

      “What?” She looked at me aghast. 

      “I didn’t think anyone still used the work _spectacles,”_ I see Baz shake his head in my peripheral vision, and I shove back his shoulder lightly, letting my hand linger on it until he takes it within his and rests them on his lap. 

      It’s then I see someone else walking down the steps of marble, blond hair flowing behind her like a veil, her heels clicking on cobblestone. I feel Baz straighten slightly, see his jaw lock tighter, his eyes narrow into smaller slits, but he doesn’t let go of my hand and something in my heart goes warm. 

      “Agatha,” Penny exclaims, Micah, sitting up to see who has joined us. 

      “You guys practically have speakers in your throats. I could hear from all the way in the parlor,” I look at her, her unearthly beauty and grace as she sits down in between Penny and I. I watch her look over me as I do her. The suspenders, the stretched out legs, the casual way I have my arm propped behind me. The fingers interwind with Baz’s. I want to pull away from him and bring my legs up to my chest, wishing to disappear. But I only folded them into a criss-cross to make space for her. Her dress was of a faded out violet sunrise. Her hair glistened and when she folds her hands in her lap, I saw the small intricate way her limbs fold. The perpetual grace of her was overwhelming. 

      “You didn’t have to follow us out here, though,” Baz retorted, leaning his head on my shoulder. My heart races. 

      “You could’ve invited me to your secret rendezvous,” She exclaimed, even her voice was like molten honey.

      “It defeats the ‘secret’ of it,” Penny says, Baz and Micah snort but I keep looking at her, though. Baz notices. 

      “Agatha this is _Oliver_ ,” He raises an eyebrow at me with a smirk at my name. A secret just for us, “Agatha is supposed to me my …. betrothed you could say,” I flip my head towards him in shock but he adds, “ _was._ She was supposed to be my betrothed but I think someone got a little sense knocked into them and decided otherwise,” She looks at him with her blue eyes in slits and I think about who in their right mind wouldn’t want to marry _her._

      “Why’d it fall out?” And they all look at me like I’m asking the color of the sky. 

      “Because … She isn’t exactly _right_ for me,” And surprisingly Agatha laughs and shakes her head, “It goes both ways,” Her eyes shine amusement. 

      “Baz has always had an … affliction for things I can’t couldn’t give him,” They all look at each other with a look of a joke that no one but they are in on. Baz’s eyes glimmer with humor. 

      “Oh sweetheart, _it goes both ways,_ ” Agatha throws her head back and laughs in a way that makes her whole body shake., “She was actually invited today but I had to warn her for the utter boredom there is to face in a setting like this one.”

      “I wish someone had warned me,” Micah mutters casting a look at Penny, she smiles mockery and kisses his tanned cheek. 

      I watched them bicker and laugh and found myself - surprisingly - laughing along with them. I don’t think I’ve ever had friends, proper friends not the ones who sit with you when there is no one else left. I constantly remind myself throughout the night that this is not forever, they don’t even know my real name. They don’t know who or _what_ I am. 

      Baz kept glancing at me, in a look that is checking, making sure I am fine. I’m not overwhelmed by them, I can handle it all. He laughs at something Agatha said and I think about how free he looks, how beautifully the moonlight complements his skin and how I’m still in my suspenders and dirty shoes. 


	7. Chapter 7

**B A Z**

       By the time the night is over, I am convinced I have successfully make Oli-Simon. Simon. I have successfully made Simon laugh that isn’t forced out. It shouldn’t excite me as much as it does.   
****

He’s laying across my legs and my hand constantly finds itself playing with his soft curls. They fall over his eye and I give into instincts and do all the things I’ve imagined. He’s talking to Bunce about some weird spell that he’s curious on, effectively hiding his own magic. I reach down and play with his fingers as he does, it makes something in me glimmer. It's horrible and shouldn’t be possible.

       Its an hour past midnight when we get up from the grass and push past excited guests coming out of the main doors. The atmosphere is so much more relaxed now that everyone has had some wine. Snow’s hair is all ruffled from my fiddling and I reach up to flatten it out. He glares playfully at me while Penny rolls her eyes at him. Micah is talking to Agatha about all the different places he’s been and which one he thinks that she would like best. 

       Everyone is tipsy on the moonlight and before I can even think it, Simon goes very, _very_ still. Like he’s seen a ghost. I follow his eye line, and even Bunce stops her blabbing to watch whatever it is he is looking at. 

       I know who it is without even asking Simon from the way his hand lets loose of mine and his back slouches like folding into a natural habit. He looks down at his shoes after accidentally catching the eye of the stranger. Heavy footsteps make way to us but I lose Simon in the mess of people. I catch sight of bronze curls way down the hall, entering the kitchen and make my way to him. Penny, Agatha, and Micah, though in the dark about what is happening, follow behind me. 

       I hear before I see something crash to the floor. It sounds like a metal and a cluster of noises follow behind it and then it’s quiet. I peak through the doorway and see a flash of a dark green suit jacket before it disappears from my view. I push the door open all the way and go inside, without bothering to close it behind me. With my hands pushed into my pockets I saunter over to Simon who was propped up against a counter with his hands in fists like he was going to throw a punch at the man. I stand next to him but far away enough that if he feels the need to throw that punch, I could duck out beforehand. 

       “So now you think you’re all that since you have friends. Darling, they don’t last,” The man retorted and his smirk was so horrendously disgusting that I didn’t want to know what is beneath. 

       “Why are you here?” Simon questioned and his face was as blank as I’d ever seen it. Something in me went cold at his expression like he could do anything and not feels it. 

       “You should be happy to see me judging by the trouble your snarky ass caused. Can you imagine my surprise when I read the paper and saw that The Pitch Manor had a new boytoy? And my surprise when it was my own son? It’s a new low even for you,” Simon’s _father_ said. I think of everything Simon told me about him, all the details of his abuse and what he did with his magic to pry him away from his mother. 

       “ _Oliver_ huh? How did you come up with that Simon _Oliver_ Snow? Aren’t you just a little genius. Your mother would be so proud if you hadn’t gotten in the way and killed her,” I wanted to punch this man so bad my fingers ached with need. 

       “I saw the pathetic little thing you did for her in the background,” He shakes his head, “ _Pathetic_ ,” And Simon punched his straight through the teeth. 

       It landed a bit off but David spits blood out onto the kitchen floor and looked at Simon in satisfaction for making the first punch. He went to lurch for Simon again but Simon grabbed for a wooden spoon. I through it out of his grasp and gave him a bigger metal one and he doesn't even hesitate to point it at David’s heart.

       “You wouldn’t really kill me. I’m the only family you have left,” Even leaning on the counter for support with blood pouring down his nose he managed to add heat and threat to his words. 

       “ _Pathetic_ ,” Simon spat at him and something blast out of the tip of his wand before any of us could react. I heard the others in the hallway gasp as well, not able to hold it back. But Simon has switched position and the magic hits David in the forearm, binding him to the counter. There were white vines around the length of his forearm that melted into the marble. I’d never seen anyone do that, especially without a citation. 

       “Is this what you were so afraid of? That I would go against you? That I would see the horrible soul you are? That I would find out exactly how powerful I was and use it against you? Because it’s not something you can carve out of a person, father. No matter how many scars and cuts you make. You must’ve realized. That’s what you and mum were fighting about that a day, wasn’t it? To send me away? She wouldn’t let you because she knew how horrible it was too. You obviously don’t, you didn’t think twice to kill her and your daughter. I hope it haunts you,” Simon had that look all through his speech, and he stepped closer so he was standing over him, looking down. 

       I had a feeling this was something that had happened before, in reverse roles. 

       “So now I am going to kill you because I knew how much mum wanted to. And how much I want to. And I want to so bad it haunts me at night. But I’m going to leave you with this,” He ripped open the buttons of his father's button down shirt. The buttons flew around the room and I watched silently as Simon put the tip of the metal against his father's skin and engraves something into the place where his heart was supposed to be. 

       ‘Empty’ It read in a block that burned an angry red as David screamed loud enough for the walls to collapse. Simon leaned away from him, hands steady and spit on the ground next to his feet. He walked out of the room without a look back, oxygen was back in my lungs as Simon walked out. 

       I motioned to the other to go after him and I saw a bigger crowd had gathered in the commotion. I followed them and then turned with my hand on the knob of the kitchen door. 

       “You can’t forget him now,” And I left him there gasping or breath as he tried to stand but the hand was still glued to the marble top. Someone else can deal with that mess. 

***

**S I M O N**

       What the fuck has gotten into me?   
****

I don’t know when I was the type of person who goes after their abusive father and carves his skin. My hands can’t stop shaking now and it’s dark and the noise in my head is so loud all other thoughts are failing to push through. My suspenders fall off my shoulders in the hectic running and my sleeve had caught in a branch and now it's ripped in crooked lines up to my elbow.

       I didn’t realize I was in the alleyway we were in for Baz’s birthday until I rounded the corner to see the raggedy door that was barely holding itself up. It creaked when I pushed it open. Without Baz’s friends, it was quiet and eerie when I shut the door behind me. The walls did’t have a trace off the magic that painted them. I went to the wall furthest away from the door and stared down at it. 

       I didn’t think when I lifted my hand, and I was defiantly not thinking when instead of painting over the wall, I started to peel off the layers off the wall. It peeled off like an orange peel, in heaps of dusty gray. Right under it was swirls and details in all the different shades of green that I remembered was Penny’s doing the last time we were here. I peeled that layer back, fisting my hand and flexing my fingers. The magic did my doing. Underneath it was a different sort of art. 

       It looked like the things you see on the walls on the street done with spray paint but substituted with glowing magic. Baz had drawn the view from his bedroom window. It looked over the garden with the white roses, and he drew it as far as he could see. It was night time in the portrait and he draws one particular star brighter then the rest and I wondered at what he was thinking when doing that. 

       I knew there were dozens more underneath it, but I went to the other wall and peeled to first two layers, skipping Dev’s design which looked like a first grader painting. Baz had drawn flames on this wall. That much was obvious. It looked like no woods I had ever seen when the trees seemed to sway and the fires raise to the skies. 

       I was turning to the third wall when I felt Baz enter in the room. I flipped to face him, standing on the door frame, leaning against tit like he had all the time in the world. 

       “People are looking for you,” He said, not even glancing to his art on the walls. 

       “I don’t want them to find me,” I reply, and start to peel the third wall, not caring that this might be an invasion of his privacy. I can’t be bothered to. But he puts his hand on my arm and pushed it down before I can peel more than the first half. 

       “He’s alive if you were wondering,” Baz says and I look at him, his eyes have a nonchalant gleam which, I can guess, is the polar opposite of mine. 

       “For how long, though?” I ask, not really a question and turn back to the wall.

       “He’s going to live until some other fucker gets tired of his bullshit and actually shots him through the heart, Simon,” Baz says and he puts his hand on the back of my neck and pulls me down so that my head rests on the crook of his neck. I inhale loudly and feel the tense pull of my muscles relax as I exhale. 

       We stay like that for a while until I pull away and look at Baz in the eyes, “How did you know I was going here?” I asked. 

        “Well I didn’t think you knew many other places in the city, and I kinda followed you,” He shrugged and gets up, I look up at him, a smirk dancing on my lips, “Don’t even start. I had to make sure you weren’t going to blow anything up,” He mutters somethings as he looks at the walls that I’ve peeled off and covers them back up. I watch silently as the bright artworks fade away behind the bland wall.

       “Get up. We are leaving,” Baz ushers me out of the room and I wait on the bottom of the short steps as he attempts to lock the door. I remember seeing him unlatch it the first time we were here, but I guess he’d forgotten to secure it as we left, too caught up in something else. He stares in confusion at me when I don’t move away so he can climb the last time. Instead, in a flash, I push him to the wall. He doesn’t hesitate to return my rushed kisses when ones of his own. We were feverish, not holding back.

       I kept him pinned to the wall as he pried my mouth with his tongue. Biting my lower lip with his teeth and his arms exploring the plane of my chest. I toy with the collar of his shirt, playing with his collar bone and not moving my hands any further. He growled in my mouth when he realized I wasn’t going to give him what he wanted and pulled as far back as he could with the wall behind him. 

       “You’re going to be the death of me, Simon Snow,” He muttered, breath fanning my face. I pulled further back, leaving a little breathing room between us before turning away to walk back to the Manor. Baz joins me a second later, hands tucked into the pockets of his dark trousers. 

       “Since I’ve told you basically everything there is to know about me, it’s your turn,” I say, turning around a corner. 

       “What do you want to know?” He asks. Hand brushing mine from the proximity. He doesn’t look at me when his fingers lightly laced with mine, only holding on to the tips. 

       I thought about it for a while, “Why actually happened with Daniel?” I remember the person who’s shoes I filled after he was fired for multiple reasons. I remember hearing the gossip about him and the eldest Grimm boy having affairs of sorts. 

       Baz casts a sidelong gaze my way before looking straight ahead again, “We made out occasionally not he back porch before he decided it wasn’t really all that worth it, stole some things, created a major scandal and left,” He says with nonchalance without faltering his pace. 

       “You guys… I mean- not that- I know you _did-”_ I cut myself off before I can truly say something horrendous and fall silent. Baz looks when I don’t finish my sentence and I shrug in a manner I hope conveys that I don’t really care. 

       “I would say it’s flattering to think that you’re jealous of that guy,” Baz says, amused. 

       “Big of you to think so,” I reply, spotting the mansion in the distance I slow down my pace.

       “I didn’t tell them anything,” Baz says. Referring to Agatha, Penny, and Micah I guessed. I give him a thankful look and detour pass the main doors to the back where there are stairs to the servants quarters. To my surprise, Baz follows me and instead of letting me go to my cot, he guides me a passage on the right of the hallway that I never even noticed before. It has a narrow passage that leads to a large maroon door that he pushed open. To my surprise, we end up in his room and he locks the doors when I close the door behind us. It is covered by a chest of drawers that Baz moves back to its place so nothing looks out of place. 

       “I’ve never even thought to look for a secret passage and now I feel as though I will be looking for them all around the house,” I say to him as he stretches along the bed. 

       “There’s one in the palor, the study, and the library, and other places I can’t remember. They lead to different areas, though,” He replied, folding his arms under his head, stretching his shirt horribly against his biceps. I looked to the far wall instead, seeing him smirk in my prepherial vision. 

       My footsteps echo on the wooden floor boards as I make my way to the bed beside Baz. I didn’t realize my hands were shaking until he took them in his and squeezed. He pulled me by the suspenders and lay me across his chest until I could hear his soft heart beats, my cheek squished against the soft material of his shirt. 

       Baz still had his hands in my suspenders when he tugged on them hard and caused me to gasp, “ _Hey!”_ I exclaim as my pant tug higher up because of his pull, “Your fetish with these is not amusing,” I pull his hand off the strap only to have his hand travel to my back and give a smaller pull on the straps. 

       “I think you should wear these under different circumstances,” He whispered in my ear and I looked up at him in amusement, taking off my shoes and tucked my legs under me, making myself further shrink into the warmth of him, the sheets and the blankets. 

       “I shall leave them here for you, don’t you worry,” I smiled against his lips and closed my eyes. 

       I hadn’t realized that sleep has taken me over until I felt the bed move and someone ripped my blanket off me, leaving my body cold too early in the morning. 

       I then realized that the blanket was Baz who had gotten up and was drinking out of the thermos again. His face was towards the window, whose curtains were pulled apart only slightly. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, only a pair of sweatpants that hung low on his hips. I couldn’t remember seeing someone so very pale before. I watched the muscles in his back move as he turned around from the noise of the blankets rustling. 

       “Good morning, sunshine,” He mocked and put down the thermos to come sit next to me on the bed. 

       “What is it that you're always drinking?” I ask, my voice still slightly drunk on sleep. 

       “I don’t know if you're ready for the answer just yet,” He was whispering but I could hear him perfectly. 

       “I think I would like to know if you had a drinking problem. It would explain a lot, though,” I reply, sitting up to lean against the headboard, I could feel his cool skin brushing the sleeves of my white button down that was wrinkles amazingly. 

       “It depends on what it is it that I’m drinking. It could just be water,” He offered, but I saw him smirk from the corner of my vision. 

       “But it isn’t, right?” I turned so that I was facing him instead of the door and I saw his eyes rank my face, down my torso to where the shirt was riding up from my hips, then back again. 

I went to kiss him, but he tilted so that I only met the corner of his mouth, “Blood,” He whispered and I pulled back, not comprehending. 

       “What?”

       “Blood. That’s what I’m drinking. You know those rumors Daniel had spread after the scandal? Yeah, not all of them were exactly false. He peered into the thermos a couple of times, and eventually connected the dots,” Baz shrugged but I saw how tense his shoulders were. 

       I remember father flaunting over the popular rumors that have spread, he said that there was one of Baz being a …. But surely he couldn’t really be. Father has said that Daniel claimed that Baz drank blood, essentially has died and that was why he was so pale. Why he never smiled.

       “Vampire? That’s what you are? A vampire,” I was looking at the wall beside his head, not being able to meet his eyes. 

       “Yes. Go ahead and tell them all if you want. They won’t believe you. It’s too obscure,” He shrugs, his eyes not giving anything away. 

       “How? Don’t you have to … die to become one?” I ask, he looks at me then and I couldn’t make out the gleam in his eyes. 

       “Yes. Mordelia isn’t my mother. She’s just the little monster’s. Natasha, she was my real mother. Died when father rilled up the wrong people. The vampires wanted something that was of value, he didn’t give them, and they decided that his wife was the proper payment for it. But I was there with mother that night, everyone was out to the town, celebrating something. I can never recall and I wouldn’t dare ask father about it. 

       “Mum was reading to me, and then she went to get some hot milk. I never really saw her again. I only heard her scream, raced down the hall, saw the blood, the scratch marks on the wallpaper, and the next thing I knew was on the bed, cold and thirsty. For blood. Apparently, they decided to not to kill me, only Turn me.” 

       I watched Baz as he told his story, his eyes didn’t move from the far away place they were in. He didn’t blink or twitch. I was never good with consolation, so I did the only thing I could think of. 

       I hugged him so tight, I could have sworn he didn’t have room to breathe. I wrapped my arms around his abdomen, his face in the crook of my neck, and his arms, after a moment of hesitation, were around me, too. 

       “I’m so sorry that you have to live with that memory. It kills something inside a person to watch a parent die. I don’t pity you, Baz, I just ache for you,” I mummer into his hair and run my fingers over it and he tightens his grip.

       We stay that way for a while until his hold loosens up slightly. I pull away to hold his face in my hands, I kiss his forehead lightly and look at him. His hands fiddle with the bottom of my hair, playing with the curls. 

       “So like, was it my rich blood that made you kiss me?” I smirk, and to my utter relief, he has a mockery look of disbelief on his face. 

       “Oh please, I’ve seen better,” he replied. 

       “Pfftt, I’ll have you know that mine is of the best quality,” I said, but something flashed in his eyes for a second that made me want to swallow my words. 

       “I’ve never bitten anyone if that’s what you’re implying at,” He said. 

       “No, no, that’s _not_ what I meant. You know what I think I’ll shut up,” I say and move off the bed to stand infront of him, Tugging my shirt down, trying to pull my suspenders upright and clipping them on the waist band of my trousers. 

       “If you’re trying to make it look like you didn’t spend the night in someone’s bed, I think it would be smart to do something with the hair,” Baz remarked, his hands were folded under his head, his long legs now stretched out on the bed that made something in me go very hot. 

       “It always looks like this, it doesn’t matter. No one will be up yet anyways,” I say and pull on my shoes before turning towards the door. I don’t even hear Baz get up from the bed until he is standing with his hand on my arm and he spins me around to kiss me. 

       He obviously had had some mint because his mouth tasted of it, but I forgot all that when his tongue prodded my lips, he lightly bit my lower lip before I gave his entrance. His hands were on my arms, and mine on his bare, cold, waist. I tilted my head and he let out a groan and pulled away. 

       “Bye now,” He muttered and I left to the hallway, shutting the door quietly behind me. 

       Afterward, Penny, Dev, Niall, Agatha, Micah, even Vivi came over, Baz helped me give them the quicker version of the story. They all had their questions and we sat in quiet silence for moments after. I let them have their time to sink it in. 

       Vivi prompted for us to leave to get something to eat, Agatha suggested a pizzeria, and before I knew it, we were all walking down the sidewalk, starving, with Dev complaining. 

       Baz had his arm slung around my shoulders so I was leaned up against him while Penny talked about the possibility of a dragon attack and how likely it was that I could help her take it down. Baz summered small additions in her made up fantasy and Micah quietly laughed when she said that we could spell it into niceness and have him as a manor pet. 

       There was a booth at the pizzeria at the back which fit all of us, and we dug right into the food once it finally arrived. Baz ended up to my right and he silently kissed my nose when I looked at him, making me forget anything that I was going to say. He smirked at the reaction and kept his hand on my thigh the rest of the night like he couldn’t really believe I was there. 

       But I was. I was there and I enjoyed the rest of that day and the plenty more to come. Mordelia said that the master wasn’t as pleased with me, and there was till father to deal with. But all of that didn’t feel as suffocating as it did a couple of days prior. I knew that I could take it, and I knew that if I couldn’t I would have Baz to help me. I knew from his soft whispers to me in the middle of conversations, making me laugh. From the way he let me touch his hand every time I passed him, and how he held me at night when the nightmares came. I knew from the soft noises he made when we kissed and the small gestures, like finding me in the middle of the day to make sure I ate. From the way he refused to admit that he was the one who put small chocolates for me on places he knew I would find, and how he made sure to have my stuff transferred to the room across from his. 

       He told me that I could move out now that I had enough money, he helped me find jobs, he came with me to look at the apartments, he helped me move, he stayed over more at mine than he did his own house. 

       I was going to build a new home for myself, and he made sure I knew that I didn’t have to do it alone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its been a while since I'd posted anything, I hope y'all enjoyed this. I'll take suggestions for other stories you'd like to see. 
> 
> Thank you for reading <3


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